


is stalking normally a part of your courtship ritual?

by ChangeTheCircumstances



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DCU, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Gen, Just lots of crime, M/M, alternative universe, alternative universe - no powers, be gay do crime just not this much crime, in Birds of Prey universe but incorporates a lot of universes, plus my own spin on some
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 103,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeTheCircumstances/pseuds/ChangeTheCircumstances
Summary: His head was pounding.Dried blood flaked away from underneath his fingernails.And his tongue seemed to suspiciously have more room than before.Victor Zsasz opened his eyes to the inside of a holding cell.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz, other relationships mentioned
Comments: 163
Kudos: 208





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm back again! Wasn't sure if I was going to write another story for these two but then I thought of this cool AU idea and I hope you all enjoy it. It's mainly based in the kind of world Birds of Prey set up-minus powers and really sci-fi stuff-plus incorporations from the comics and other media forms (for those wondering, Alice Tetch was created specially for the show Gotham and is Jervis' sister for example).
> 
> Also couldn't figure out a good summary (if I can later I'll switch it) but for now just have the first few lines. Not sure how long I want to make this yet but I've got big plans for it and can't wait to get into it! Thanks for reading and again, hope you enjoy!

His head was pounding.

Dried blood flaked away from underneath his fingernails.

And his tongue seemed to suspiciously have more room than before.

Victor Zsasz opened his eyes to the inside of a holding cell. He started to yawn, only for it to send another shot of pain through his head. Fuck, how much had he drunk?

He pushed himself up and immediately looked over his person. He wasn’t looking for his wallet or knives or anything else though. That would have already been taken. Instead, he was looking for blood that was his. Dried and hardened against his clothes. He pulled up his shirt but—

No. No new marks. The latest was just the one from the night before, still covered with an old bandage.

Even blackout drunk he wouldn’t have forgotten.

It was an odd sense of comfort and at least narrowed down the reasons for why he was there. If he’d killed someone and gotten caught, it either would have cost more money than he had to make this situation go away or he would have had to flee Gotham. That would have been a shame. He hadn’t been there long, but he’d already fallen for the city. There weren’t many places that held quite so much filth to play around in.

Victor tested his more spacious mouth.

He’d definitely lost some teeth. The wounds were still a bit fresh. Copper tasted on his tongue. Other feelings began to filter in, the pain in his face and mouth fighting for victory over the pain in his head. He looked around and noted how empty his bench was despite the crowded cell. He didn’t recognize any faces so it was doubtful it was a reputation thing. Not that Victor had much of a reputation yet. He was still relatively new to Gotham.

His entrance must have simply been something—ah, so that’s how that had happened.

A man sat curled up on a different side, relatively fresh cuts on his face. Victor looked back at his bloody fingers. He looked up again. When the man caught him staring, he quickly looked away. Well at least that explained that. But looking around there wasn’t any more drying blood on the flood. He’d lost his teeth elsewhere then.

“Za-Zeza-Z—fuck this. Victor, your time’s up.”

He turned his head to see a cop putting a file down and going to unlock the door. Another man quickly stood up though. The cop barked at him to sit down.

“I’m not fucking talking to you! Do you really think I’d have that much trouble with your last name Vic? It doesn’t even start with a ‘z’, Christ.”

With that, Victor actually got up and walked over. The cop moved aside and then quickly locked the holding cell again once Victor was out.

“How the hell do you say your name?”

“Zsasz.” It came out with a light sputter of air that Victor wasn’t used to, compliments of the missing teeth. He’d need to get that looked at soon.

“Well Zsasz, walk down the hall just there and pick up your stuff from the clerk.” The cop then laughed, clearly picking up on Victor’s confusion. “Not surprised. You were wasted out of your mind.”

“So, I’m not under arrest?”

“Why? Should I be throwing you back in?”

Oh, for countless things, but Victor just shot a bloody smile as the cop laughed. “Nothing that I can remember. So what? In and out for drunken misconduct?” God, ‘s’ was being really tricky too.

“Yeah, you and Basil Karlo were really going at it in the bar. He’s not pressing charges though. You ain’t going to do that either, right?”

Victor got the message. Don’t press charges. Don’t waste my time more than you already have. Victor was only too happy to follow that unspoken order, though the name did spark some level of recognition. Was Karlo a former client? A regular in some of the haunts Victor was coming to call home? No, that didn’t sound right. He was—

“Isn’t that the shit B-list actor?”

“Don’t know. Now you want to go or get back in the cell and have a chat?”

Victor put up his hands. Right, he’d asked enough questions. He walked in the direction he’d been told, noting each pain and ache that vibrated throughout his body. He wondered who had started the fight. He stopped at the clerk and gave her his information.

When she slid over the bag of knives, she gave him a careful eye. “You’re lucky these are within the limits of the law. We could have charged you for that.”

Oh, luck had nothing to do with it. If Victor was out in public, he was very aware of anything and everything on his person that could get him put in prison. However, he just nodded in acknowledgement and pocketed everything. Once outside, he checked his wallet.

Nothing. Shit. Had he spent it all on drink? Maybe. Or maybe what was left had been taken by the cops. A little compensation for getting involved. Both options were equally possible. He started to go for a cigarette but changed tactics again.

Smoking with open sores in his mouth probably wouldn’t have been a great idea. He liked pain as much as the next psycho, but he didn’t want to get a god damn infection.

He let out a long sigh and looked up at the sky. It was going to be a long day. Wasn’t it?

Victor started walking.

Despite the lack of money on him, he thought about stealing a bite to eat. But no, best to fix his mouth first if he could. Maybe even figure out where the hell he’d lost his teeth. Because of that, he changed course. Instead of heading to his crummy apartment, he headed to the bar a few blocks from it. Considering how often he was there, it was practically a second home. Since he’d been drunk, the fight had probably occurred there or near it. Maybe someone would know something.

It wasn’t long before he saw O’Malley’s dilapidated sign, looking even duller and shittier in the daylight.

It had been one of Victor’s first stops in the city, hearing rumors of the criminals and jobs that floated around it. The rumors had been right, and with a few crooked cops always watching out, the place miraculously never shut down. The place was usually open at all hours unless some type of meeting was going on inside.

The doors were closed and the open sign was off, but Victor didn’t spot any notable cars or the sudden addition of guards for some big mob boss or the like. Because of that, he waltzed on in, noting the broken door handle as he went.

“Here to clean up your mess?”

Victor looked to see Alice Tetch trying to fix a barstool. He looked at the rest of the space. The fight had definitely happened here.

“You’re lucky Karlo made the first move or else you wouldn’t be allowed back in here.”

“So he started it?”

“Ok, now I know you started drinking before you came here because I only sold you three beers and a shot.”

Victor lightly laughed. “Was celebrating a new cut from the night before.”

Alice made a face. At least with most of the regulars in the bar, they knew about Victor’s ritual from whispers and rumors. Victor was honest when people asked him for the truth too. He enjoyed watching their look of disgust and horror. However, unless someone had a job for him, he really only interacted with Alice. She was the usual bartender and was Victor’s in to the bigger contracts and connections.

“So, what did he do?” asked Victor.

“He was complaining about being a celebrity but no one seemed to recognize him and that he deserved a free drink. Then he tried to shove you out of the way.”

“It was the B-actor then!”

Alice nodded. “Going by how his night started and ended, I’m guessing he’s no actor now.”

“I always enjoyed his films. Shit films and a shit actor, but always fun,” replied Victor. “Did I ask him for his autograph?”

“If you can call it that?” sighed Alice. “You stuck out your tongue and said you’d snatch some pretty girl’s skin so he could carve it in the flesh for you.”

“Before or after he knocked my teeth out?”

“After. He probably would have backed off by that point if someone hadn’t called the cops by then.”

Victor’s head swiveled around. “You still have it?”

“Ok, if you had actually gotten him to carve you up an autograph, I absolutely wouldn’t be letting you in here right now. Regardless of the help you bring my brother and the doctor.”

“Naw, not talking about that. Do you still have my teeth?”

“Ew! No, I didn’t keep your teeth. What the hell would you have done with them anyways?”

Victor shrugged. Something, maybe. Might have given himself a challenge to see if he could shoot a tooth into someone’s neck and kill them. It could have been fun. He leaned back to look at the collection of alcohol behind the bar. The headache reminded him water first, and before he did anything, he really did need his teeth to be looked after. He turned back to Alice. “Is he in?”

“Lucky for you, yes. I’d wait though. He said not to disturb him until he’s done.”

“When the hell is that going to be?”

She glanced at the nearest clock. “About ten minutes now. You could help me clean up your damn mess while you wait.”

“Not my job,” Victor replied with a shrug.

She let out a disgruntled sigh as she focused back on her work. If Victor had been a kinder person, he might have felt bad. However, he didn’t feel much when it came to those that didn’t directly get involved in his work. To her credit though, Alice Tetch was at least slightly more amusing than the general crap around the city. And she was a damn good bartender. Besides the fact that he was somewhat using hers and her brother’s connections to make a living, he mainly would never kill her simply because she could pour a mixed drink quick and never forgot Victor’s first choice.

He sat at the bar and just watched her clean up his mess from before. He tried to fight the urge of poking more at the inside of his mouth as he waited. The minutes passed, slow and dull as most of the body aches faded. They were technically still there, but they were at a level that Victor just didn’t notice anymore. Only his mouth and head still hurt by the time Alice got up and started to walk to the back. Victor followed.

They went downstairs, the walls and decorum quickly changing from a bar rotting from the inside out to what almost looked like a medical wing.

It was all thanks to Dr. Hugo Strange’s money, the basement being one of his many bases of operation. Victor had no idea where the main lab was. He didn’t care to know, that aspect not being important to the few jobs he did for the man or Alice’s brother.

They walked into the main lab where Victor saw that Strange had just finished up an autopsy. Victor immediately knew what that meant.

“Perfect. I am in need of someone to do body disposal.”

It was hard not to make a face at that. Victor wasn’t disgusted by it or anything. But three-fourths the fun was actually carving a fucker up. Just disposing of someone, and probably in a really simple, effective way meant to hide a body and not display it always just felt like a waste of his talents.

“Come now Victor. Going by your face, I’ll change payment for services instead. That should be enticement enough.”

That was another thing that somehow the doctor managed to do. Victor usually didn’t care what people called him, first name, last, bastard, whatever. But this prick always sounded so god damn condescending. Victor was young, but he wasn’t that young. His skills should have spoken for him far more than his age.

But it was ultimately a small annoyance. Victor didn’t really care what Strange thought of him as long as he provided the occasional job and check-up.

“Ms. Tetch. If you could go into the next room. I’ll begin your transfusion in just a moment.”

Alice nodded. She didn’t flinch away from the corpse. She may not have found the same joy in such images as Victor could, but she was familiar with the life. From what Victor knew, it was because her brother had made a deal with Strange early on to keep his sister alive with whatever strange illness she had. Victor hadn’t asked any more questions than the initial explanation. If he didn’t need to know it for a job, he didn’t care that much.

As Alice left the room, Strange came over and forced Victor’s mouth open.

“Hmm. Only two missing. I’ll need to remove the fragments left in. Prepare the body to be moved and then get on the table.”

Victor rolled his eyes. With the fingers still in his mouth, he could only mumble out a sarcastic, “Yes sir.”

Strange changed it so he was gripping Victor’s chin, made more painful because of the wounds, and forced him to look Strange in his eyes. “You’ve only been in Gotham a little over a month Victor, so let me give you some advice. A young man with your talents needs no tongue.”

Victor just let out a tired sigh as Strange roughly let him go and left to follow Alice. Such a threat didn’t bother Victor. Getting threatened in Gotham was practically a regular event by now. But probably best not to push Strange. Victor could easily take the older man one on one, but if he made even a single mistake, Strange probably had a million and one chemicals and needles in here that he would only have to prick Victor once with. And the man had connections. If Victor was to kill him, he’d have to leave Gotham and he’d already established he didn’t want to do that.

Because of that, Victor did as he was told for now.

He wrapped the body up nice and tight, covered from head to toe and set it off to the side. Then he lay down on the hard, cold table. It wasn’t long before Strange was back, Alice’s treatment mostly running on its own after initial setup. Strange grabbed several instruments, placing them on a rolling tray which he moved over before sitting by Victor’s head.

“Open.”

Victor followed the command. Strange didn’t bother to give him any kind of painkiller, something which Victor normally wouldn’t have minded but each cut or point that was grabbed shot into Victor’s head. Having a back alley surgery session, no matter how small, with a hangover was not how Victor liked to start off his week.

The pieces of broken teeth were completely removed first, causing some more bleeding in the process. Gauze was forced into the place. Strange pressed some ice to the right side of Victor’s cheek as he waited for the bleeding to slow down. As they both waited, Strange began to talk.

Victor resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. A grand vision, science, Victor really wasn’t the crowd for that crap.

However, he quickly focused on Strange’s voice once the ice pack was removed. Strange forced his mouth open and shoved a scalpel in it before Victor had a chance to react.

“I do believe removing your tongue, or even sewing your mouth shut, would be best for everyone. In fact, I could gather another man of your skills quite easily in this city, and I have wondered what anomalies I might find in a brain like yours.”

Victor narrowed his eyes. If Strange was really going to try and kill him, he’d better be prepared to get a punctured neck. Victor wasn’t tied down or drugged after all. Even with a blade in Victor’s mouth, Strange would have to act quickly if he didn’t want to risk dying too.

However, it seemed Victor’s undivided attention kept Strange from going forward.

“You see, even an animal like you can learn some manners.” Strange removed the scalpel and started to work again. This time Victor paid attention to what he said, or at least pretended to. Best not to risk a second incident.

After everything was done, Strange removed himself and said, “You’ll need to wash your mouth carefully after eating or drinking anything but water. Depending on how it looks by the end of the week, we can discuss the matter of replacements. Now, please dispose of this body quietly and efficiently. There’s a car waiting for you outside. He was one of Dr. Tetch’s patients and I’d hate to have his practice effected by the sudden death.”

“No problem,” mumbled Victor. It wouldn’t exactly be fun, but at least after the bullshit Strange had tried to pull, it would provide a calming pattern of activity.

Victor got up and moved the body upstairs. He went out back and put the body in the trunk before getting in. It reminded him that he still needed to get a car of his own. He needed to get a lot of things really. When doing a job for Strange it didn’t matter since the man provided anything that would make the job efficient, but other clients could be a bit more trouble at times. Especially if they wanted it so the body was never found again.

The thought was pushed away for the moment though. First, dispose of the body.

Victor stopped by his apartment just long enough to grab some specific tools he’d need hidden under a loose floorboard. Then it was back in the car and driving to the really broken and abandoned side of Gotham. Some of the buildings made his own apartment look like the fucking Ritz.

He sliced each piece up nice and good on a layer of tarp. He made sure all identifiable aspects from fingerprints to teeth to DNA were ruined one way or another. Then he bagged each part individually with plenty of other weights and drove around Gotham’s piers, dumping the bags at strategic points.

Once done, he drove back to the bar to drop the car off.

The place was open again and upon walking inside, the mess from before was completely cleared away with just one table missing. It must have gotten broken beyond repair then.

It was way into the afternoon now and the usual cliental had filtered in. Victor moved amongst them and found a spot at the bar, right in front of Alice. She was a bit paler from her recent treatment, but otherwise was working just as quickly as usual. She set a glass of water with a straw in it in front of Victor before quickly moving to the next customer.

For a while, Victor just sipped at it and very carefully ate a packet of peanuts.

He needed to continue cementing his roots into Gotham and he needed a more stable line of work. Technically, Strange provided that, but Victor didn’t like his methods. There was no room for fun or inventiveness and Victor rarely killed anyone for him. And if that wasn’t enough, the day’s incident really cemented just how at odds they were. He could go to one of the gangs or mobs. His talents would be revered in such company. Victor wasn’t a local though, and family and connections were important in such circles. And he doubted Strange would exactly put in a good word for him.

If he wanted to do that, he’d have to build up his reputation a bit more. Until such an opportunity fell into his lap…what did he have?

Victor was trying to plan ahead. He thought about getting a car, even a cellphone. He’d ideally like to move into a better apartment too. Broken windows and flickering lights were fine with him. He could get comfortable just about anywhere, but the noisy as shit neighbors and water problems had already gotten a bit much in just a month of living there.

He needed money and he needed it—

“A job offer was floated around while you were gone.” It was Alice. No one new had come in and she’d apparently finished the rounds. It was a bit surprising that she’d chosen to stop in front of him though.

“And you’re letting me in on it? How sweet,” snorted Victor. No, Alice wouldn’t do it out of the kindness of heart. What was her aim on this?

Alice picked up on how he was already picking apart her statement. “I’m not stupid enough to hire someone else to kill you. I’d have better luck at hiring you to kill you.”

“At least you acknowledge my skills. What’s the job?”

“A bodyguard.”

Victor’s hopes were dashed. “Pass.”

“It’s for the Sionis’.”

“Who?”

Alice groaned. “I forget you’re not a native.”

“Do I fit in with the rest of the grime that well? I’m honored.”

She glared at him as way of a response before continuing. “They’re up there with the Wayne family name, only smaller company and more reclusive than the Wayne heir.”

Victor shrugged. “So?”

“It could provide a steadier job than picking up what you can here and pickpocketing the dead.”

“And be forced to be around a bunch of rich pricks? I already have to deal with Strange. I don’t need more obnoxious egos in my life.”

“But it would be a steady pay. And it’s their son they need the position for. Not the parents.”

“Why are you being so forceful with this?”

“Because if you’re busy with that, then you’re not here risking fucking everything up for me and my brother.”

Victor thought about it for a second. That was a fair assessment. If Victor found it advantageous, he would gladly kill Hugo Strange regardless of how much the Tetch siblings might need him. “Can’t argue with that, but still doesn’t mean I want to take it. Besides, on a good day, I doubt they’d want my ugly mug invading their perfect class. And right now? Wouldn’t even get a word in during the interview before getting kicked out.”

“I don’t think so. From what was said, I think you’re exactly what they need.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “You really want me gone. Huh?”

“Yes,” she deadpanned. “And according to the person who came, the son has pissed off some powerful people that probably wants him dead. So, having a person willing to protect their son using any means necessary is exactly what they need.”

“Then you’re saying someone could die during the job.”

“Exactly.”

Well if it promised more action than what he was getting… “How old’s the son?”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“He’s a year younger then. What details leak to the tabloids paints him as a real nutcase too. Who knows, maybe you’ll like him so much you’ll never come back here.”

So then if Victor had to stick by the son’s side, he wouldn’t be dealing with an old, uppity dick. That made the idea more appealing. To Alice he just said, “What? And never get poured another drink by you? Couldn’t possibly leave that.”

“A woman can still dream,” sighed Alice. “Are you at least interested in taking it?”

“Hmm…maybe. Give me the details and let me see.”

She took out a business card and slid it over. “Well act fast. The Sionis’ have a lot of money at their disposal. A lot of people were interested.”

“That won’t matter.”

“And why is that?”

“If I really want the job, I’ll just kill the competition.”

“You really are a horrible human being.”

“Guilty as charged. Bring me some food. Yeah?”

“Go to a real fucking restaurant if you’re hungry Victor,” she sighed before turning her back on him.

Victor picked up one peanut and flicked it hard against the back of her neck. She spun on him with an annoyed look as he just grinned back. However, if she wasn’t going to get him something, it was probably best to try and find some food then. He had a little cash saved up in the apartment. Best to go there and get cleaned up, assuming the water was running today. Then finally eat and then…

He looked at the business card, flipping it round and round in his hand.

Maybe he would look up that job offer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick thank you to everyone reading this so far. Updates probably won't be this quick but I felt inspired and wanted to hurry up and introduce Roman. Also, not going to tag every name unless they're going to play a major role in this to not weigh down the tags.
> 
> Also, to be honest a lot of name drops are more to flesh out this unique universe I'm trying to make along with some fun cameos as I bridge and mix things. For example, Basil Karlo in the first chapter is a reference to the first rendition of Clayface, a b-actor turned serial killer for those who didn't know (that felt more fitting in this world of no powers and everything compared to the more science-fiction villain that Clayface later became).
> 
> Anyways, thank you again and I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Three days passed. Three days of no working water and having to take showers in the sinks at O’Malley’s. Three days of watching his savings dwindle. Three days of no contracts. Three days of no one to kill in some way that eased the tension in his chest and calmed his mind. He was tempted to just kill the next person he saw. Just for something fun to do. But that wouldn’t pay the bills and he couldn’t continue the upkeep of his tools if he wasn’t getting paid.

Fuck it. He might as well try.

Victor used a payphone to contact the number. Speaking with the holes in his teeth was getting a little easier, though he hopefully wouldn’t have to get used to it. He didn’t exactly want Strange’s fingers in his mouth again, but it wasn’t like he could afford a hospital visit.

For the moment, he just answered the short, quick questions and then wrote down an address for downtown. They would give a more extensive interview there, apparently assess his background. That had Victor thinking he might not have a chance. If they were expecting some of kind of formal resume, they weren’t going to get it.

But if this didn’t work out, he would have to find something fast or else he might be stuck with Strange longer than he preferred.

The formal interview was for the next day. He wasn’t supposed to bring any weapons, but he had a nylon knife that he put away just in case. Walking without a knife was like walking naked, even if he didn’t plan to use it.

And considering Victor had close to nothing now, he got up as early as possible the next morning to start the long walk through the city until he got to the closest transit station. He climbed up the stairs and got on for a few bucks and went farther into the city.

A young woman had the misfortune of sitting next to him. She got stuck there for a stretch due to overcrowding. Victor rolled his head back. Her hair was cut short, leaving her neck beautifully exposed. God, if he just had a more stable place to stay and a proper income, he would have followed her off the transit system then and there. After moving so many cadavers for Strange, to feel a pretty little thing like her squirm in his hands, to bring a knife to her throat, he couldn’t help the almost moan like sound that escaped his lips. The way she jolted at the sound and scooted away as much as possible just made Victor grin wider, but job interview first.

Victor watched the young woman scurry off at her stop with a mournful sigh. The next stop was his and Victor was soon at the center of what the media called the heart of Gotham.

He didn’t see the tall buildings and somewhat clean downtown area as the heart though. The shine and gleam was more like the skin. It tried to cover and hide the rotten core of Gotham and some were stupid enough to fall for it. Or maybe they purposefully stayed naïve. Either way, all Victor saw was lies and false faces as he walked among a higher class of people.

Moving from the bars and shops, he came to the more business side of things. Suits and nice blouses went left and right. Victor stuck out. He didn’t care, but it did make him further doubt the chances of this interview going well. By this point, even if he didn’t get a chance to kill someone as a bodyguard, he’d still gladly take it. He would just kill a vagrant in his free time then. Follow a girl home every now and then.

As long as he got that steady paycheck and running water again Christ!

He went into the main headquarters of Janus Corp and walked straight to the welcome counter. The security guards all stiffened at his presence. Even Victor couldn’t fault their reactions.

“I’m here to speak with Mrs. Sionis?”

The woman at the counter gave him a disbelieving once over. “And your name?”

“Victor Zsasz.”

She frowned. Her face focused on the screen in front of her. “Oh. Oh I…yes Mr. Zsasz.” She confirmed the spelling and looked at his ID like it wasn’t even him. When she couldn’t find fault though, she directed him through the metal detector and towards the elevators.

Everyone seemed on edge as he came up to the rectangular arch. It was like they expected everything to be set off the moment he got near. However, the slight nylon knife remained resting comfortably under his clothes and in its sheath. A guard walked over and gave him a seemingly random pat down-yeah right, but the knife went unnoticed. Victor had been careful about the placement. He resisted the urge to visibly sigh as he walked away and up to the elevators.

He went in and amusingly, what few people had already been there suddenly got out. He ended up having the space all to himself as it went up and up, people suddenly apologizing and saying they’d take the next lift if it did stop on a floor. He eventually found himself at the correct one though and stepped off. It shined even more than the lobby. Victor felt like he was leaving a trail just by walking forward.

There was another receptionist who was on this one. From the look on his face as he talked on the phone and continuously glanced up, Victor guessed the woman on the bottom floor was explaining everything. He whispered something else on the line and then quickly showed an incredibly forced smile. He gestured to a row of chairs. “If you could just wait there, Mrs. Sionis will be right with you.”

Victor slumped down into the seat. Now that he was there, he really had the feeling that he wouldn’t be getting this. At least watching everyone squirm and grow uncomfortable around him brought some small level of joy.

He stayed there. His eyes roamed over the squares on the floor. He started counting them, bored out of his mind and wishing he could take his knife out and play with it a bit.

Forty-eight…

Forty-nine…

Fifty…

Fifty-one…

“Mr. Zsasz, is it? I do hope I’m saying that right.”

Victor got up and turned to the woman that had come up to him. Looking at her, he didn’t doubt for a second that she already thought him revolting. Yet somehow, she still shot him the most elegant and beautiful smile Victor had ever seen. Oh, she was good at this. He bet she could tell any person ‘thank you’ and convince them she meant it, even as she twisted the knife in their back.

In answer to her question, Victor replied, “You are.”

“Is it foreign? You don’t sound foreign.”

He wasn’t a fan of this small talk, yet it wasn’t an outright no. Was this part of her game? Keeping up appearances and never directly explaining anything? He wouldn’t be surprised. He was tempted to cut to the chase. He managed to hold off for just a little though and said, “Hungarian, I think. But I was born and raised in America, as were my parents.”

“Ah, that makes sense. We are the nation of immigrants.” She started to automatically walk as she continued the discussion, like she somehow had a whole little speech prepared on the matter of the melting pot of America.

Couldn’t she tell Victor didn’t give two shits? He resisted the urge to groan as they walked by several offices and then came to quite a large one. He noted a plate that labeled her the vice president. Victor guessed Mr. Sionis was the head of the company then. He also noted the name. If only to break up her droning on, he said, "The company was named after you?”

“Oh, in a way. They do sound the same, but the company is named after the Roman God of beginnings. My name is simply an extended form of Jane, though is interestingly related to God in its origin too.”

Alright, that was already far more information than Victor had wanted. He decided then and there he hated the woman.

Once the doors were closed, Victor simply came clean. “Listen Janice Sionis, I really could care less what the hell your name means. I’m here about the position. Now can we get on with that or should I already be showing myself out?”

Despite his words, she didn’t turn around until she’d come to her desk and sat behind it. The look on her face had markedly changed from the one that had initially greeted him. However, Victor honestly couldn’t tell if she was showing her true self or simply another side. Even if Victor wasn’t a fan of such lies, he couldn’t help but be a little impressed.

He still hated her though.

“Right to the point. Very well. Sit, Mr. Zsasz.”

Even her tone of voice had changed. He walked forward. The moment he sat, she started talking again.

“You’re very young.”

At least she was keeping her word and staying on topic now. “I’m experienced,” replied Victor.

“In nothing legal, I suspect? Or should I prepare myself to be surprised as you present a plump CV?”

Oh, so fucking arrogant. And yet still so carefully composed. Each word chosen for a specific reason. This had to be a different face. Not the one of the beautiful wife on the arm of the powerful CEO, but the one of a woman who was equally as smart if not smarter than the head of the company. Was there anything underneath that? A true her? Or just another false smile?

He didn’t bother answering her question though. It was clearly just there to differentiate the class between them. Screw it. This was no good. He automatically stood up. He was going to leave, chase down someone and slit their throats, annoy the shit out of Alice for suggesting this fucking job, and then try to find a new job or at least a temporary contract.

At least that was the plan. But her next question stopped him.

“Those scars, what are their purpose?”

“To keep track of each life I’ve taken.” No point in not being upfront. He kind of wanted to break that careful composure. Instead, a look, cool and calculating came over her face.

“Hmm, truthful or not, he’ll certainly be entertained.”

Victor’s eyes narrowed at that. How dare she imply such a thing! He’d worked hard to make sure his marks were never off, always perfect. Did she have any idea how painful it was when they were wrong—

“You’re hired.”

Somehow, the conversation did a complete one-eighty. Victor was so thrown, he didn’t know what to say. She stood up and walked back around her desk.

“You’ll start tomorrow. Bright and early please. You can pick-do you have a car? No matter, I’m sure it’s a piece of junk and no Sionis should be seen in such a thing. I’ll procure—”

“I have the job,” interrupted Victor.

“That’s what I said.”

Victor’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sure of my talents. This job is easy enough. But according to you, I gave you a possible truth about my scars, and now you’re entrusting me with your son’s life.”

“You’re not the only security detail for him Mr. Zsasz, but I believe you’ll provide a sufficient distraction for him so that he does not chase the other security details away. And if you are truthful, then you’ll provide an extra level of padding for my son.”

“So then am I a security detail, or a babysitter?” Even if Alice’s comments about the son being a nutcase was true, Victor didn’t want to deal with him if he was even half his mother.

“You’re a personal bodyguard as far as Roman cares, and that’s what matters. Now, in regards to the car, I’ll need an address to have it be sent to you. Any damages will come out of your paycheck obviously and—”

She kept talking details, but Victor was only partially listening. He needed the job, a constant flow of cash. But did he really want to risk dealing with a little Janice Sionis? If Roman Sionis proved just as annoying as her, Victor might just kill the guy he was meant to protect before the criminals got close enough to do the job. If that was the case, he’d be better off finding a different job or sticking with Strange for just a little longer—

Victor’s attention zoomed back in on Mrs. Sionis’ words. “I’m sorry. Where am I picking Roman Sionis up tomorrow?”

“Arkham Asylum. We had him spend a weekend there, doctor’s orders though I honestly doubt it did any good.” She let out a long sigh that didn’t sound very heart broken. “Obviously we’ve taken great care to keep Roman’s mental health a secret. You’ll be signing a non-disclosure agreement, but if for whatever reason you’ve suddenly changed your mind, I assure you, we will bury anything you try to leak to the press.”

There seemed to be an implication that she would also bury him. Victor hadn’t expected such a turn from the woman he’d first met. Again, impressive, but he still hated her.

But Roman Sionis, now that did spark a certain level of interest. If not like his mother, then it made since anyone would be driven a little mad with a woman like this as a caregiver. Victor’s opinion on the situation changed again. He reminded himself that he needed the money, and now he wanted to curb the newfound intrigue. He could leave the position later if that intrigue fell apart. The job seemed like it would be fairly simple after all considering Mrs. Sionis saw him less as a capable man and more a shiny toy to distract her son with for a few moments.

Maybe Victor would prove her wrong. Maybe he’d become more intrigued with Roman. Maybe he would hate him as much as his mother and try to leave in the next couple of days. But he needed to at least try.

He simply said, “Understood.”

Mrs. Sionis gave him a venomous smile. “You’re quicker on the uptake than I would have guessed. Good. Now to continue the details.”

She kept talking, but Victor listened more carefully now. They both eventually sat down again, and Victor was soon looking at the documents. He wasn’t going to lie. There was a lot of jargon he didn’t understand, but the gist he got. He said, “So basically, you’re not going to put me in an unmarked grave if I suddenly say fuck it and leave.”

“I could care less how long you stay on. I’ll get the next distraction for my son if that occurs. But if you reveal anything related to the Sionis name or this company, life will be made very complicated for you.”

“Then you’ll put me in a grave.”

A light laugh, and like that, her face warped again. “Oh, Mr. Zsasz, no. We’re not criminals after all.”

Maybe that was the truth. But Victor found that if you associated with criminals, that pretty much put you in the same category and she was willing to employ him. He didn’t trust her, but at least for the moment he signed everything after giving it a careful eye and passed it over. He’d be making about two grand every two weeks. That was more than enough to help stabilize his living situation. And he’d be able to purchase some new tools he’d been interested in with the new cash as well.

“Thank you for this…conversation Mr. Zsasz. Now, do be punctual tomorrow or you will be fired immediately.”

“Understood.”

“Good. Now I’m sure you can show yourself out.”

So that was it. Fine by him. If he didn’t have to deal with her breathing down his neck, he would take it.

Victor left quickly. He wanted to get back to his side of town, the comforting squalor, as quickly as possible. However, he did get off a stop early upon seeing a particularly welcoming neck. He did finally have a steady job…

He decided to indulge.

With only a small knife on his person, he followed her before stealing her into the shadows. He preferred metal. He liked to watch the glint of the blade, to see the horror of what he’d done reflected in it. But other materials, like this nylon blade, he loved them in their own right. There was barely any struggling. Perfect for a quick moment that really brought Victor’s spirits high again as the blade passed like butter through her neck.

He threw the body into a dumpster. Maybe someone would find her. Maybe she would get crunched up by the garbage compactor before that. It didn’t matter to Victor as he walked away with an extra skip to his step. He made a new addition to his body once home before going out again to eat. He decided not to go out drinking though and to just revel in every detail of the kill. He was supposed to be punctual tomorrow and he still hadn’t drunk a drop because of his missing teeth too. He wished that would heal quicker.

But before going home, he did stop by the bar to get directions to Arkham Asylum. He knew the general area it was in, just not the exact address.

Alice’s response was delightful as always. “Finally checking yourself in?”

“You would love that, wouldn’t you,” laughed Victor. “No, just need it for a job.”

He did wonder if Alice understood who it was for, or if she assumed it was for a different contract. However, it became clear that since she didn’t think it would affect her or her brother, she didn’t care to ask for more details. Victor really liked that about her.

As she passed over the written notes, she sarcastically mumbled, “Don’t let the doors lock behind you.”

“Oh, you know I’m more careful than that.” He snatched up the directions and quickly left to return home.

At least when he got there, the water was working again. He took the opportunity to take a proper shower and then went to bed, curious about what the following day could offer him.

He would have woken up on time, but actually got up earlier than intended from a knock at his door.

His muscles carefully rolled. His nerves were wired. Picking up his favorite knife, Victor answered.

But it was just a man in a suit that was standing like he might get an STD from touching anything. He held out a set of keys at arm’s length.

“The car has been dropped off, courtesy of the Sionis’. Mrs. Sionis wished me to remind you that you’re expected to pick her son up at ten o’clock.”

Victor didn’t even respond as the man quickly turned and left the moment Victor had the keys in hand. It made Victor laugh. He was sure Mrs. Sionis would have felt the same way about his current apartment, though she would have hid the distain better.

He double checked the time. He still had a while before he would have to get on the road. He went ahead and took his time making breakfast before he finally got dressed, knives and all.

Once outside, it wasn’t difficult to spot the new car. To be fair, it wasn’t as flashy as Victor expected, but the interior gave away that its price point was incredibly high. He took out the notes Alice had written down. He read them again before pulling onto the road and driving towards the Asylum.

From what Victor knew of the place, it was actually a newer location. The old Arkham was rotting away in a district of condemned buildings and chemical plants somewhere. This newer place was outside the city’s limits, though only slightly. It was like they thought doing so would drive out the crazy. Too bad no one in city planning understood you couldn’t get rid of insanity so easily if it had already planted its roots.

Still, the drive was nice in a conventional sense and once outside Gotham, Victor could easily speed along the roads.

He made it with ten minutes to spare and parked in a visitor’s spot. Once inside, the one behind the glass and wire walked him through the process. It seemed he’d already been approved to pick up Roman Sionis. Victor signed his name and then someone else started to guide him through the hospital. However, Victor was forced to stay in the hall when apparently a patient was trying to bite off his own tongue. Victor resisted the urge to laugh as he watched the people scramble from afar and his guide had to rush over to help. A guard that was guiding a patient in chains came up close to him, trying to avoid the commotion.

The patient’s hair was long and gray with a slightly greasy sheen. His unshaven scruff of a face turned to Victor. He let out a unique, wheezing laugh. Victor cocked his head to the side.

“What?”

“Just thinking of a joke. You wouldn’t get it.” Then the man’s old eyes seemed to light up with a moment of youthfulness. “Or maybe you would.”

Before Victor could ask about that, the patient was dragged away and Victor’s guide was back. As the guy apologized for everything, trying to explain that the patients in this area were usually better behaved, Victor interrupted him and asked, “Who was that?”

“Oh, we try not to mix those who have committed crimes and been put here by the courts with our other patients. Apologies about that. I believe he’s going to his therapist right now.”

“But who is he?”

“You didn’t recognize him?”

“I’m not from Gotham.”

“Oh! Sorry. Well that’s Fleck. He was one of the main figures during the riots in the seventies.”

Didn’t ring much of a bell. Victor shrugged.

“The riots that killed the famous late show host? That basically lit Gotham on fire for days on end? That the Waynes died in?”

Victor shrugged again.

“Wow, you really aren’t from around here. Well, any matter, it was a long time ago now and Arthur Fleck is an old man with thankfully no chance of getting out. Right this way Mr. Zsasz.”

They continued on, only passing one other patient in chains. It did appear like they kept the groups separated, and Victor could guess that the halls of the criminally insane were not as nice as the main ones. They took an elevator up to the third floor. It looked like the area was more office space than patient rooms. In some spots there were chairs where patients or staff waited to speak with a doctor or something. They turned a corner and Victor caught sight of a man that easily stood out in the white.

Besides the obvious price tag to most of the clothes and the flashy sunglasses hanging off the collar of his shirt, Victor also noted the familiar eye and hair color. So, this was Roman Sionis. Victor wondered if he was in his own clothes because he was supposed to be leaving today, or if the rich got special treatment. He would have guessed the latter.

Once closer, Victor’s guide said, “Mr. Sionis, this is Victor Zsasz. He’ll be accompanying you from now on by order of your parents.”

Roman didn’t look surprised so he must have known this was coming. He didn’t jump to his feet. He mostly ignored Victor and grumbled, “Good. Then we can leave now.”

“You still have to see Dr. Strange before we can officially discharge you.”

Oh no.

“And if I don’t?”

They had to be kidding him.

“Then your stay will be extended. By order of your parents.”

Victor looked at the nearby name plastered over the door next to them.

“By order of my parents. I’m twenty-fucking-three! I’ve my own fucking rights.”

Oh great. Fucking great! The whole reason he’d taken the job was so he’d see the guy less! Not more!

“You and I both know that’s not true. Please, Roman. I’d rather not keep you a full week here.”

Then the door opened, and Victor came face to face with Hugo Strange.

Strange smiled. “What a surprise, Victor. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“And he’s a fucking narc,” groaned Roman, clearly misinterpreting the situation. Still, he walked past Victor and Strange and fell into the office seat without a care.

Strange’s smile didn’t leave his face as he said, “Please wait out here Victor. Patient-doctor confidentiality. I’m sure you understand.” With that, the door firmly shut between them and Victor was left alone, his guide already getting back to his usual duties.

Oh, Victor was tempted to just leave now. He’d tried his damnedest, but oh well. He would just have to find a new form of employment—

No, now hang on. He was acting irrationally. He was tasked with sticking by Roman’s side. Not Strange’s. This should just be a small blip. He shouldn’t have to worry about seeing Strange every other day or anything like that.

Victor slowly breathed in and out. By the time he was done, the short meeting was over and Roman was already out the door. Thankfully, Strange didn’t follow.

Roman walked through the halls, clearly knowing the route as he grumbled and growled to himself. They got into the elevator and went down. When Victor caught a phrase that included calling him a narc again, he quickly said, “I’m not here to report to your parents.”

“You’re working for them, aren’t you? You might as well be,” growled Roman. However, Roman did surprise him as his eyes quickly flickered to him again. There was still suspicion there as he admitted, “You did seem surprised to see him. But you still know Dr. Strange.”

“I’ve…worked with him a little. In a different context from this. I didn’t know he was going to be here.”

“You didn’t know he worked at Arkham?” Roman asked with an incredulous look. They walked out of the elevator. “Let me guess, you conveniently don’t know he works at Black Gate or anything about him despite apparently working for him.”

“I-I didn’t,” stuttered Victor. Though he supposed considering the doctor’s connections, it made sense he would want to be near all potential test subjects and clients.

“Are you stupid?”

“I’m not from Gotham.”

“Oh.” Roman seemed genuinely surprised as he stopped in the hallway. He looked Victor up and down. “You look like you crawled right out of one of our gutters.”

“I’ve been told that.”

Roman actually laughed, continuing on until there was only one more door between them and the outside world. He yanked at the handle and then yelled at the person behind the desk because she hadn’t moved fast enough. He yanked again, then once more at the right time before throwing open the door and stomping out.

He correctly guessed the car without Victor having to say anything and they both got in.

Roman put his head in his hands. His whole body shuddered with some unidentifiable emotion. Then his head popped up with an annoyed glance and he said, “Just take me home.”

“Where is that?”

“Well take out your fucking phone.”

“I don’t have one.”

Roman’s eyes widened. He looked at him like he’d committed a cardinal sin. “You don’t have a phone.”

“No—”

Roman grabbed his chin. He was a handsy one.

“And you’re missing fucking teeth? Jesus, where the fuck did my parents find you!”

“I answered a job posting,” Victor evenly said when Roman finally let go of him. “She said she wanted someone to distract you.”

It seemed he’d managed to surprise Roman again. “You’re…actually being honest with me.” The immediate suspicion was back. “Why?”

“Why not? Usually makes things more interesting anyways.”

Roman groaned. “So, I guess if my parents ask you anything, you’ll be just as honest too.”

Victor shrugged. “Maybe. But I’ve already decided I hate your mother. If you want me to lie, I can.”

Roman let out a sharp laugh. He looked at Victor, seemed to decide on testing the waters, and said, “She is a fucking cunt.”

Victor nodded in agreement. He wasn’t going to deny it. “I almost walked out on her a few times. The only person I’ve felt more condescension from is Strange.”

Another laugh. “Now that is fucking true. Change of plans. We’re going into the city. Just start driving towards Gotham.”

Victor pulled out of the parking lot and started driving. “Where are we going now?”

“You ask a lot of questions too.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Will you listen if I tell you?”

It was a challenge of sorts. Victor could just straight up say no. He imagined some type of rant or tantrum might come of it. But despite the clear sense of superiority that Roman held with his walk alone that should have reminded Victor of Mrs. Sionis, he decided he still didn’t hate Roman yet. Victor was still intrigued, and he still needed this job…

“Your parents hired me, but as far as I’m concerned, I work for you now. So yeah, I’ll listen.”

A look of glee blossomed in Roman’s eyes. But he asked one more question. “You’re not hiding anything else, are you?”

“About my employment to you? No. I need money. Was brought under the idea I’d be a security detail and got called a good distraction by your mother. That’s about it. But I think you’ll find I’m much more useful than a simple distraction and better than a whole team of bodyguards.”

Roman leaned over, resting his chin on his knuckles. “Some actual fucking honesty.” His eyes roamed over Victor’s face and clothes. “And you didn’t even try to hide who you were despite my status and the position of this job.”

“What’s there to hide? I’m me. If people don’t like it, they can fucking deal with it.”

He’d apparently said the right thing. Roman looked elated. “You might just last longer than a week.”

“That how long it took to scare off the last distraction?”

“Something like that,” grinned Roman. “And in answer to before, you can keep asking the questions. Your bluntness is refreshing.”

“So where are we going now?”

“To get you a fucking phone of course! How else am I supposed to stay in contact with you? A carrier pigeon? Next you’re going to tell me you don’t have a bank account.”

“I don’t. Payment for this comes in cash for now.”

Roman again gave him an incredulous look. “Did you just wash ashore here in a carboard box?”

“About a month ago, though my cardboard box is an apartment. Sort of. The plumbing might as well be made of cardboard because of how often it doesn’t work.”

“Jesus, you really are some kind of street rat. I like it.” Roman focused on the road and took out his aviators. “Pass this fucker will you? I’d like to be back before it hits eleven fifteen.”

Victor’s lips twitched into a smile. This certainly seemed like it would be more interesting now than a simple way to get money. Hopefully Roman would continue to be anything but boring.

As Victor’s foot pressed down, the car easily jumped up another ten miles as he pulled around the car in front of them and did as he was told.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thank you again to all reading this! I'm really loving writing it and it's great to hear your thoughts on it <3

In only one day, Victor watched Roman go three-hundred and sixty degrees on a wheel of emotions. Sometimes it was in response to something Victor said. More often it was a reaction to someone else. Sometimes, Victor couldn’t even tell what had sent him off. Despite the mood swings though, it wasn’t like how Mrs. Sionis had changed faces so easily. Instead, no matter which mood it was, it still felt like it was unabashedly Roman. He was almost raw in his expression, saying what came to mind immediately, reacting instantaneously, almost violently a few times.

There was some hesitance to things though. He could certainly bring the bite if he wanted to be truly cruel. To more than one employee that was just moving too slow he used his words to properly pick away at their self-esteem rather than just shouting in a sudden rage. It didn’t matter that he didn’t follow the patterns of normal social interactions. Rather by choice or not, Roman seemed to be himself no matter what was in his way.

Victor imagined that was why Roman had seemed so pleased when Victor had mentioned he didn’t care about presenting some false cover just to fit in.

The first thing they had done in Gotham was get Victor a phone. It felt a little weird to accept it after working for Roman for only about an hour, but he supposed the money was like pocket change to him. At least Victor could now mark it off the list of things he still needed to do to cement his place in Gotham.

After putting in the only contact information he had now-Roman’s-and possibly destroying at least one person’s sense of self-worth, they left. Victor pocketed the phone and decided to mess with the settings later. For the moment, Roman was already demanding to be taken elsewhere.

The choice ended up being food.

Along the drive, he noted a familiar car. He’d seen it upon entering Gotham as well. For the moment, he simply stored the information and acknowledged how it popped in and out of view like before. He’d wait to see if he should mention it.

The drive took over twenty minutes due to traffic even though they didn’t leave the same area of Gotham. Victor wasn’t surprised that they arrived at a restaurant that he wouldn’t have been able to get a job as a trashman. He half expected to be told to wait in the car. Any other rich fuck would have probably said that. Roman simply gestured for him to follow though and Victor did. As he carefully watched Roman, it seemed he was getting a similar amount of satisfaction at seeing how Victor’s presence threw people off and made their faces distort in distain.

Unsurprisingly, as food was involved, Roman’s first question upon sitting was about the missing teeth.

“Just a drunken brawl,” came Victor’s answer.

“Well it makes you look like some hick. Cretin I can stand. Not this.”

“It’s still healing. I plan on getting something put in as soon as I can.” The thought made Victor wince. He really didn’t want to deal with Strange though.

Roman misinterpreted the situation again. To be fair, they hadn’t known each over for long. If the job truly did continue, Victor was sure Roman would come to know exactly what kind of man he was in no time.

“You don’t strike me as the kind of person who gets bothered by a little pain,” Roman said. A waiter came over. She talked to Roman first. He ordered a martini. She more hesitantly asked Victor. He just got water.

“It’s not the pain. It’s who’s doing it.”

“Get another doctor.”

“Now that’s funny,” Victor sarcastically said. “What made you think I was made of money?”

He wondered if Roman would snap at him. However, he picked something else out from his voice instead. He leaned forward with interest sharp in his eyes. “Do you even go to real a doctor?”

“Well, he’s a real doctor. The basement that he—”

“Is it Strange?”

Now that presented an interesting conundrum. Victor had said he’d be honest with Roman, but Strange’s business was his business. Victor would rather not get on the man’s bad side more than he had. However, before figuring out the best response, his silence had given Roman the only answer he needed.

“It is! So that’s how you know him.” Roman leaned farther across the table, grabbing Victor’s chin again and pulling it close.

Since it seemed pretty obvious that he was looking at the holes, Victor let his mouth go slack as Roman’s eyes roamed over him again.

When he let go and Victor could talk, he said, “You’re not surprised?” It seemed too late to deny it anyways.

“He has some underhanded dealings with my parents. Not that I’m allowed to be involved.” Going by the bite of his voice, there was definitely some bitterness at that. “So, no. It doesn’t surprise me he has other operations outside of his legal practices. And this is Gotham. Corruption runs all the way up to the mayor.”

“Fair enough. It is why I like the city.”

“Then you made your life in the squalor by choice?”

“Mostly choice. A little happenstance and some luck probably got mixed in too.”

“And what do you do for Dr. Strange?”

Should he be honest? Technically, if this was any normal human being, the answer would have obviously been no. Especially if Victor wanted to actually get his first payment. But Roman’s rawness also allowed Victor to see a certain level of darkness in him. It was surprising in its intensity as Roman waited for an answer.

Risk losing his job? Scaring him away with the truth and getting the cops called on him? It could happen. But risk lying to Roman or telling him he wouldn’t get the truth? Somehow that felt like the more dangerous option. Roman wanted him honest…ok. Victor would be honest.

“I dispose of his failed tests from time to time.”

Roman leaned forward even more. His voice dropped, partially to keep from being overheard, but also out of a budding excitement that he seemed to want to share only with Victor. “People?”

“Is that what these things around me are? I always thought they were targets.”

Roman laughed hard. Victor was pleased he actually got the joke. However, he wasn’t too surprised that Roman didn’t straight up believe him. “You don’t truly kill people though. Do you?”

“Not for Strange.”

Roman’s eyes picked him apart again. “And I’m to believe my dear old mother let you anywhere near me.”

“I told her every scar she saw was from a kill. It’s her own failing that she didn’t believe me.”

It was hard to guess how Roman would react, but the moment was broken by the waitress asking if they were ready to order. Roman immediately snapped at her. It had her backing up, but Roman simply said, “Did I say leave? No! I’ll have…”

Roman hadn’t even looked at the menu so the restaurant must have been a common spot for him. A quick glance around showed that the other workers would not be coming to the girl’s rescue either. A few even shook their heads at her apparent mistake. She was probably new then, and going by the looks, they definitely had their own policy on how to deal with Roman to try and avoid an outburst.

Once done, the woman hesitantly turned to Victor but Roman snapped his fingers, bringing her eyes back to him. “Look at him! Do you think he knows half the things on this menu? No!” Roman ordered for him, saying some foreign name that Victor had never heard before.

Victor didn’t really care. And Roman was probably right about him not knowing any of the dishes. He was of course curious about what he was about to eat, but Roman answered his unspoken question the moment the waitress was gone.

“It’s a soup.”

Victor cocked an eyebrow. Hot soup on his still healing gums? Really? But Roman spoke again.

“It’s a cold soup.”

“Who the hell drinks cold soup?”

“You do, right now. Or should I have ordered crab legs and shoved the splinters of the shells down your throat?”

At most, it was a creative threat. But from Roman, it almost sounded like he would follow through with it. The interest and intensity came back. They both instinctively leaned forward as Victor murmured, “You’re going to threaten me now? You must not believe what I’ve said.”

“I think I believe it.”

“You think?”

“I’d like to believe it. It would make things so much more interesting. Are you a hitman then? Do you work with the mob?”

“Haven’t been around long enough to have those connections. But I do take contracts here and there.”

“Will you take contracts while working for me?”

“I don’t need to if the cash keeps flowing. But that doesn’t mean a few deaths here and there won’t occur.”

Any normal human being would have run. They would have run about five minutes back in the conversation while dialing nine-one-one. Not Roman though. He was anything but normal, and Victor was loving it.

“My mother was a fool for not believing you.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Are you a serial killer?”

Victor rolled his eyes. “I feel like that sticks me in far too narrow of a box. And actual serial killers aren’t like what you see in the shows. Most don’t have that high of an IQ. Some even leave evidence behind because they want to be caught. I don’t want to be lumped with them.”

“So what would you call it?”

“A hobby. A very, very important hobby.”

“A lifestyle then.”

“Hmm, I like that.”

Roman laughed and Victor couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across his lips. The only reason this discussion was intriguing Roman and not scaring him away had to be because he’d done something equally dark. Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe the thoughts and plans and ideas were squashed down from his parents, his position, even from Dr. Strange. But there was something dark in there, something that Victor would love to see.

At that moment, the food came. They leaned back and a different waiter quickly put everything down before hurrying away.

Victor gave his soup a skeptical look. He glanced back up to see Roman had ordered himself something involving steak as he held a knife in hand. It—

He blinked in shock.

A lot of feelings were associated with the instruments of his profession, but especially the knives. Pleasure and beauty at the well-crafted ones. Respect for those made for specific jobs. Distain for the occasionally cheap one that came into his possession and broke at the handle. Jealousy when he saw a particularly exquisite one in the hands of another. Sometimes the urge to slit the holder’s throat and steal it became unbearable in such situations.

But no feelings were truly related to the holder. If in anyone else’s hands, he still only cared about the blade and even the jealousy was felt more for the metal, like how dare it let itself be held by anyone else. But Roman…he held it well.

Roman’s words brought Victor back from the shocking discovery. “Does the mark go on before or after?”

“After. If I did it before, there’s a risk of them becoming off.”

“What happens if they’re off?”

“It doesn’t.”

“But say they do. Say…I cut you.” Roman leaned forward, knife still in hand.

He wasn’t close enough to actually cut him, yet Victor’s instinct stepped in and he grabbed Roman’s wrist hard enough to bruise. Roman’s eyes narrowed. Victor just barely processed that those around them had all frozen, patrons and workers, but his mind was completely focused on Roman.

“The tallies don’t get off.”

“What? You kill and cut at the same time? The tallies are technically off if you have to wait to add a mark after killing someone.”

“That’s different,” hissed Victor. “A mark with no body. A mark with no actions and no explanation. No reason for being there—” He had to stop talking to keep from growing more upset. Just the idea had him twitching, made his stomach roll.

“Alright. I’m sorry,” Roman said in an overly calm voice.

Victor, digit by digit, finally let go of Roman. “No you’re not.”

Roman let out a low, dark laugh. “No, I’m not. It’s good to know where the boundaries lie though. I’m assuming a papercut wouldn’t count.”

“It’s…annoying. But no. As long as I know it won’t leave a permanent scar, that’s what matters.”

“Better hope you never need heart surgery. That would suck for you.”

Victor managed a breathy laugh, his shoulders finally easing. Roman Sionis truly was something else. And he’d only known him for about three and a half hours now.

Roman pulled out his phone as he started to eat. The sudden change was a bit surprising, but Victor simply followed for the moment. Whether conducting business, talking to acquaintances, buying something expensive, Victor wasn’t sure. He just ate his soup-which wasn’t terrible but he sure as shit wasn’t letting Roman order it for him again.

The only time Roman did put his phone down was near the end of the meal when Victor spoke again. “So, no more questions?”

“What? Eager to tell me more?”

“No.” It sounded defensive, even to Victor’s ears.

Roman laughed again. “I do like a little mystery. Besides, should this be a permanent position, we’ll have plenty of time to learn more.”

That did remind Victor of why he was there. Mrs. Sionis hadn’t mentioned much of it, nor the person who had gone around handing out the business card Alice had initially given him. “She described me as a distraction. And only so you wouldn’t scare away the other security details.”

“Basically. I do like to confront them and take out aggression on them from time to time.”

Victor’s mind went back to the car before. It hadn’t parked with them, but he’d seen it pass once through the glass of the restaurant, then a second time and park at a meter during the meal. His eyes moved back to that car. Roman’s followed.

“And is that the security detail?” asked Victor.

“Unfortunately,” groaned Roman. “I’m impressed you spotted them without already knowing the usual cars they drive.”

“Well I was told people were after you. Is that still true?”

Roman gave a carefree shrug. “I had a tiff with Sofia Falcone.”

“Isn’t that the name of a mob boss?”

Roman laughed again. “Yes. I must admit, I doubted your sincerity when you said you weren’t from Gotham. But Falcone not being immediately recognized does prove it.”

“I hear Cassamento’s name a lot. But that’s just because I know I’m living in part of his territory. And I think he’s the one that uses O’Malley’s for the occasional meeting.”

“Cassamento? He’s barely a leader. Unless you’re a user, he’s no man to get involved with. Almost exclusively deals with heroin too so not exactly a diverse market. Falcone is the real man to talk to. The other families follow him, though they do it with the goal of always looking for a chance to take over.”

“You seem to know a lot about this.”

“My family isn’t involved in the mob if that’s what you’re thinking,” snorted Roman. “Though I think I’d almost prefer that to their dealings with men like Strange. No, not the Sionis’. But you will find that those who sit with a board of directors and the men who surround themselves with drug and weapons dealers do brush elbows in many the same places. At least in Gotham.”

“Hence your ‘tiff’ with Sofia Falcone.”

“Exactly.” Roman started to stand up and Victor followed. Roman took note of Victor’s slight confusion as he was just walking out of the restaurant. “They’ll put it on the bill. My parents will pay it by the end of the month.”

Victor rolled his eyes behind Roman’s back. Fucking rich people. At least Roman was unique enough to override that aspect. As they walked out, Victor asked, “So Sofia Falcone is…”

“Carmine Falcone’s daughter, youngest of three.”

“In her early twenties?”

“Just turned nineteen and about to leave for college.”

“And she’s spending her last few days in Gotham gunning for you?”

Roman scoffed as they left the restaurant and headed to the car. “Don’t tell me you’re taking this seriously.”

“Don’t have to if you don’t want me to. But I am curious. What happened?”

“We had a disagreement at an art gallery.”

“Only a disagreement?”

“I may have told her I’d pickle her face.”

What an entertaining idea. Victor didn’t take things from his victims except cash when he needed it. Maybe a nice weapon they’d been holding. The tallies were generally all he needed. But he certainly would keep the gory image in mind for a special occasion. Victor also imagined there had been a lot of arguing and build up to that comment, possibly more threats. He asked, “And is it her or her father gunning for you?”

“More likely to be Sofia. Carmine wouldn’t want to upset anyone over such a small threat. He’s always very keen on keeping things balanced and it’s not like I ruined his daughter’s honor. But Sofia only might have hired a hitman. Maybe she didn’t. It’s only been rumored so far.” He shrugged again.

“It doesn’t bother you that your life is in danger?”

“It makes things more interesting. Besides, it’s not like my dearest parents would let anything happen to me.”

It was interesting how he said that. The bite in the words. The twitch of his lips. It almost sounded like he wanted something terrible to happen to him. To finally cause his parents to worry? To feel concern? Possible, but that conclusion didn’t feel right. Was it simply a destructive tendency? Maybe, but that didn’t seem to fit either. Perhaps Victor would come to understand it later.

They got into the car and Roman gave him a new address.

This time Victor wasn’t surprised when the car of the security detail pulled out and started to follow them.

The next place they stopped belonged to some type of high-end clothing brand, though Roman seemed less interested in shopping and more in talking with the people there. It was like they’d all congregated there on purpose, surrounded by items that didn’t look that impressive to Victor and yet somehow cost more than his new biweekly salary.

He half listened, but most of the talk was boring and gossipy. To be fair, that was what he’d expected more of from Roman Sionis. He supposed he should be grateful the man was far more interesting than the stereotype of a rich brat. However, Victor did wish he’d been instructed to stay in the car on several occasions after lunch.

Roman enjoyed how Victor put people off, but surely he didn’t want Victor imposing on the company of his own people. Couldn’t Victor just let the rich brats be brats and take some time to himself?

Only, they weren’t Roman’s people. Not really.

Though Victor ignored the talk, he did split his time between watching their surroundings, messing with his new phone, and then simply watching Roman. He wasn’t friends with these people. He only partially enjoyed their company, if that. These rounds, these gatherings as they went from stores to expensive coffee shops and such, the gossip, it all felt more like he was going through a script pre-made for him. He didn’t enjoy it, and the people that were there seemed to only follow along because-what? He was a Sionis? The people he talked with were following their own scripts and only slightly better at hiding their distain?

It was all so fucking fake.

Victor wasn’t enjoying it either, but at least after the third get together happened, he now understood he was around because he was the only thing that was bringing any amount of joy to Roman. The way people would walk around them, avert their eyes, glance between Roman and Victor again and again, trying to figure out why the hell Victor was near. All that discomfort and shock was at least something to feed off of.

It was just past six when they were in the car again and Roman was finally giving him an address not in Gotham’s shopping districts. He’d given it after reading a text from his phone. He’d made a disgusted noise and his shoulders had immediately dropped.

Whatever he was responding to wasn’t going to be enjoyable then, but it did seem that Victor wouldn’t have to witness it.

That was because the address was for the Sionis mansion, still within Gotham’s city limits but not on the island and away from most of what made Gotham, Gotham.

Victor wasn’t surprised that a large gate surrounded the estate and he was only just barely able to see it behind the wrought iron gate and what looked like an expansive garden. However, he couldn’t go in as there was a car in the way and a young woman standing by it. She’d spotted them on the way in and Victor watched as her back straightened and one hand brought up a device.

From far off, Victor had wondered if this was really going to be the first attempt to get back-but no. It was a recording device. A reporter then?

This time Roman actually said, “Stay in the car,” as he got out. Right before he closed the door, Victor heard him say, “Ms. Vale. Are you going to be an annoying little bitch again?”

The door slammed shut, muffling their voices and making it impossible for Victor to hear her response. However, she didn’t seem fazed. She kept her recorder out the entire time. Roman tensed and shouted some things, making them a little easier to hear.

Aspects like, “Ask him your fucking questions!” and something about not being friends. Victor wondered who Roman was referring to.

The conversation only lasted about five minutes. Ms. Vale didn’t look defeated when she finally put the recorder away though. If anything, her demeanor clearly said she’d be seeing Roman again. She said one last thing to Roman as she got into her own car. Roman flicked her off as he walked around to Victor’s side.

Victor automatically rolled down the window. He almost thought about asking a question about what had just happened but decided against it. He hoped to understand it soon, but for now, he remembered what Roman had said. Leaving some things a mystery a little longer could be fun.

“Pick me up at ten every day besides Wednesdays unless I text you. Understood?”

“I’m not driving you to the front?”

Roman shook his head. “I need a walk. Clear my head,” he murmured, mind clearly going elsewhere for a second. He let out a long, tired sigh before slapping the top of the car and stepping back. He shot Victor a smile tinged with apprehension. For whatever the text had included? “This was a very entertaining introduction to you, Victor Zsasz. I hope you continue to not disappoint.”

“I could almost say the same to you.”

That seemed to take away the tired look in Roman’s eyes, if only for a second. “Tomorrow. Ten o’clock.”

“I won’t forget,” Victor replied. He rolled up the window and started to back out. Roman went to a keypad, punched in a code, and one gate just barely opened. He walked in and it automatically closed behind him. Victor started to drive back into the city.

By the time he got home, it was just past seven. Victor threw on a random movie and made himself dinner before sitting down with his new phone. Since it appeared the new job would be lasting long enough for that first paycheck, he started to look for apartments.

He could have moved out of the neighborhood and found a better complex, but he decided to stay focused in the area. He was fine with simple and cheap as long as the water wasn’t going to break every other day. Besides, he liked the food too much and he enjoyed being near enough to drop in and fuck around with Alice while getting a drink.

Speaking of, he’d have to thank Alice next time he saw her. She’d been right. Roman was a complete nutcase and Victor was already loving it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive thank you again! I've been planning out how I want to write this and exactly where the story will go. The estimated number of chapters is only an estimate though so it could end up being a little shorter or a little longer. Thank you for reading this though and for any kudos and comments!

Victor went to pick Roman up, right on time as asked. This time when he came up to the gates, they opened automatically. Someone on the inside must have done it. It only took a few seconds for him to spot the security camera. As he slowly drove through, Victor got a chance to see the ostentatious mess of a place. He had no idea if it would have been considered fashionable, traditional, or too much by people of the same class. It all seemed too much to him. And Roman had only mentioned himself and his parents so they were probably the only ones living there. Right? What the hell kind of family of three needed a home that looked like it had a hundred rooms?

Looking at the garden on either side of the road, the hedges also suggested some type of maze. Was that pretentious? Maybe not to other rich fucks, but it all seemed horribly pretentious to Victor.

The road opened into a circular section that he pulled around and waited near the bottom of the steps of the large front doors. His eyes looked at the high walls, the pillars. It seemed to have an old aesthetic going for it, but he didn’t know what the look was called. He tapped his finger against the steering wheel, waiting and bored out of his mind until after five minutes the doors finally opened. Was that a fucking butler? Did a butler really just open the door for him? Jesus, rich people.

Yet as Roman walked down and got into the car, he simply continued to surprise Victor, refusing to go in a socially acceptable box and just being himself.

He picked up on Victor’s loathing over the whole estate. He let out a dramatic sigh. “I know. It’s all so much. Mother told me not to bring you inside, but maybe I will some time. Then you can really see all the god damn lies they hide behind.”

Victor started to drive away. “If you hate it so much, why not leave?”

Roman let out a humorless laugh. “You say that like I have a choice.”

Victor shot him a disbelieving look.

“I don’t expect someone like you to understand.” Roman crossed his arms and glared out the window.

It was hard to say if he’d started off in a bad mood or if Victor’s question had specifically set him off. Most would have backed off. Victor kept going. “So? You’ll start from scratch and be like the rest of the schmucks everywhere else. You still could.”

“I’m the heir to the Sionis company. The estate, their fucking fortune. I can’t just leave that behind.”

“Can’t you?”

Roman glanced back at him. He made a sort of noise in the back of his throat. He almost looked hopeful, but then he gave a tired shake of his head. “No point in explaining it to you. You’ll never understand.”

Maybe he was right, but it seemed pretty black and white to Victor. Still, when Roman gave him an address, Victor simply followed through with it and drove. Despite the incredibly interesting first day, Roman was now far less chatty. He sulked, put in a bad mood from the conversation or something else, maybe both. After a few minutes though, Victor decided he wasn’t as annoyed by it as he would have expected. If anything, it drew him in a little more.

Only his second day and he already wanted to understand Roman far more than any other person he’d met.

Along the way, Victor again noticed the security detail. To be fair, they weren’t too obvious. However, he kept their presence in the back of his mind, wanting to make sure he could always confirm it was them and not someone else that had begun following them.

Otherwise, the drive was uneventful as they drove through Gotham. The address Roman had given him was for a large skyscraper near the center. It wasn’t Janus Corp but belonged to some other company. So first stop was business then. Perhaps an errand from his parents. Roman let out another tired sigh.

“Lord knows your involvement would make this far more entertaining, but I’ll be going in alone.”

“Order from your parents?”

“Yes,” Roman said through gritted teeth. He rubbed his eyes before he got out and slammed the door shut. Victor watched him walk across the parking garage until he disappeared from view.

Victor could sit and wait for who knew how long…

He turned off the car and got out instead.

Few things ever made him feel so engaged. He couldn’t remember the last time something had struck his curiosity, surprised him and pulled him in. Especially another person. And if he couldn’t see this aspect of Roman by order of his parents, well then Victor would just break the order.

Victor was more used to breaking into private dwellings. He usually liked to do a little reconnaissance too, just in case there was some kind of security system. He wouldn’t go into this building, but he did decide to take a chance for now. Instead of going down, he went up to the roof of the parking garage. The lobby was mostly surrounded by glass and Victor managed to spot Roman. He was stopping and talking to a few people. Victor noted the slump of his shoulders, even from this distance. Victor felt like Roman had more agency than he realized, but at least for now, it was like he was walking around with a loaded gun to his head.

It took a while before Roman managed to actually get past the welcome desk due to the amount of people trying to talk to him. He waited for an elevator and Victor quickly got out his phone.

The thing had a lot of features that Victor didn’t give two shits about. A flip phone would have been just as fine. But of course Roman had bought one of the most expensive ones they had. At least now Victor could say he was putting some of the phone’s abilities to good use. He pulled up the camera and zoomed in just as the elevator opened.

Ah! Perfect.

The elevator opened both ways, meaning Victor watched a light flash on behind Roman as he pressed a button in front of him. Floor five. Victor was lucky it wasn’t too high. But there was of course a chance Roman wouldn’t be going to one of those window offices. Victor might have already seen all he could.

Considering it was this or waiting in the car though, Victor decided to keep watching for now, to see if he could spot Roman again. He kept his phone on him, looking in at the windows where he could. Some were more difficult due to the shine of the sun, but after a while Victor still hadn’t found Roman. He moved from the parking garage and went to a different building, its back to the back of the business Roman was in.

There weren’t many office windows in the back, really only the corners and another row next to them. Victor wasn’t high enough to see to the fifth floor though. He went to a fire escape on the opposite building. He put his phone away and used the wall to help propel himself up and grab the bottom rung of the ladder. It shook a little, straining against the latches that were keeping it up. Victor managed to climb up before anything snapped though and was quickly moving round and round the stairs until—

He stopped at the fifth floor which put him at pretty much eyelevel with the other building’s fifth floor. His eyes quickly went over both sides-on the left corner office! Victor took out his phone again. He sat down, comfortably leaning against the metal as his arm stayed propped up on his leg. He zoomed in and watched Roman from a distance.

Whatever the conversation was, Victor’s best guess was that it involved business between this place and Janus Corp. Reading lips wasn’t his strong suit, not that it actually mattered. He was more focused on just watching Roman.

The droop in his shoulders turned tensed, one coiled set of muscles ready to strike at anything and everything around him.

Victor decided to start recording. He didn’t know why. It just felt like the next natural step.

He was happy he’d thought to do it though as Roman did strike at about the seven-minute marker.

After a particularly heated conversation, he grabbed the man’s paperweight and slammed it against the hand that was resting on the desk. Victor let out a low whistle. Several of the bones had to have broken.

Just as the man cried out, Roman grabbed his tie and pulled him in close, possibly saying something especially nasty. He sat back down though, content on continuing the conversation even as the other man was practically in tears and holding his hand now.

Roman’s shoulders eased a bit. He still didn’t want to be there, but the act of aggression had certainly helped. Victor imagined that if he hadn’t acted then, he might have acted at the ending of the meeting with an even more violent act.

The rest of the conversation managed to take a little over twenty minutes. The man’s hand was turning purple by this point, but he’d sucked it up, probably not wanting another outburst from Roman.

Victor watched as Roman stood up. He signed a few things, said some more words, and then marched out of the office. Victor finally dropped his hand. He saved the video, pocketed his phone, and then was moving down the fire escape at a brisk pace.

He got back to the parking garage, went to the wrong floor because his mind was still distracted thinking of Roman, quickly went to the right one, and as Roman walked over, so did Victor. They got into the car at the same time.

“Where the hell were you?”

“Did you really expect me to wait—” Victor paused as he turned on the car. He looked at the time. “Thirty-eight minutes by myself?”

“Fair enough,” sighed Roman. He rubbed his eyes and grumbled, “I need to go to the company. Then business should be done for the day.”

“Ok.”

Victor pulled out. Roman only spoke to make a comment about a shortcut but otherwise stayed silent. They got to Janus Corp and again, Roman told Victor to stay behind. This time Victor knew there was no chance of finding Roman in the building without following right behind him, knowing the full layout, or knowing his planned destination. There also wouldn’t have been any good spots to at least watch Roman in the lobby either so Victor resigned himself to wait. After a few minutes, he pulled out his phone and re-watched part of the video he’d recorded. Thankfully, Roman didn’t take as long though, only about fifteen minutes. Victor put his phone away.

“Christ, I need a drink. Have you been to The Stacked Deck? What am I saying? Of course you haven’t. It’s in the East End. We’re going. Now.”

Victor pulled out his phone again. Roman was looking away as Victor got rid of the recording and quickly looked up the directions. The drive took a little time due to an accident which Roman got really furious over for a few seconds. After his rant, he pinched the bridge of his nose and just closed his eyes. It gave Victor a moment to stare before he had to return his attention to the road.

“Turn here. We can get around this bullshit and get back to this street after two more rights.”

Victor followed the order.

Once they made it, Roman jumped out while the wheels were still rolling to a stop. Victor turned the car off and quickly followed. He looked at the entrance and decided it was definitely more upscaled than O’Malley’s. Bar seemed like too crummy a word to apply to it. Victor supposed nightclub? That seemed a bit better, especially considering the lack of customers at the current time as they walked in. It looked like a band was practicing, probably for later that night, and there was some small rearranging of seats in one section.

Roman sat in a booth that was still open and Victor slid in across from him.

Someone came up behind Victor. She started to speak before she could see him and it was clear from her reaction that he wasn’t the kind of person that Roman usually brought along.

“Mr. Sionis, a pleasure as always and you’ve brought with you-oh. Oh u—”

Victor snorted as she stuttered to a stop. Roman snapped his fingers, dragging her attention towards him. “The usual.” He turned to Victor. “Can you drink yet?”

It had only been one day… Oh hell. He might as well try. Hopefully in just a few more days and he could get something to replace the spots. “Maybe.”

“Let me guess, something boring like a beer?”

“I enjoy whiskey. But I am driving.”

Roman made a face. “Probably shit whiskey. Remind me to introduce you to a good single malt at some point. Get him an ale. Same thing to eat.”

“Of course Mr. Sionis.” She hesitated on catching Victor’s line of sight again.

Victor shot her a grin full of teeth. When he turned back to Roman, he tried asking a question, hoping to get some more interesting conversation going on like before. “Not the usual arm candy you bring along, hmm?”

“Whatever gave that away?” Roman sarcastically said. “No, you are possibly the ugliest person I have ever brought here and yet I’ve successfully held an entertaining conversation with you longer than anyone else.”

Victor chuckled. “You’re welcome.”

“You know, most would feel insulted by such a comment.”

“Just not on the list of things I care about.”

“What do you care about?”

Now it was getting interesting again. “My work. My tools.”

They paused as the drinks came first. Roman’s seemed to be a martini. He had a preference. Victor stored the information away.

“You use knives. Obviously,” Roman said in between sips. “What about guns?”

“Not as fun, but I can wield one fine. Though…”

“What?”

“Had one when I got here. Lost it in a scuffle. I of course have all my knives, but I still like to have some variety.”

“You haven’t gotten another one yet? You gave off the impression that you have criminal connections.”

“Only through Strange and his partner.”

“His partner?”

Now it was Victor’s turn to sigh. “I allowed the information about Strange to get out. That’s on me. But unless you already know anything else about his business, I’m going to decline to answer.”

“They have a hold on you?”

“I’m not indebted if that’s what you’re thinking. Money or otherwise. But Strange is powerful and I’m no fool. I’d rather not be run out of Gotham because I fucked with the mad doctor.”

“Understandable. But you also didn’t have me.”

“Are you saying you’re my first connection of any real substance?”

“I think you think that. You certainly don’t sing Strange’s praises.”

“His work doesn’t line up well with mine. As I said, I would have looked to the mob, but I didn’t have an in.”

“Tell me more about your work then, if not about Strange. You take contracts. Tell me, do you kill for yourself?”

The instinct to lean into the other happened again. Both moved closer and closer with each word. Victor actually found himself excited to talk about it. He liked to revel in the memories, occasionally stroke a scar upon thinking of a particularly fun time. But telling others didn’t usually evoke such an emotion.

“Define, kill for yourself,” said Victor.

“As a way to benefit yourself?”

“Sometimes. I’ve stolen from the dead. But that’s rarely the reason why, or it’s at least never the most important reason.”

“Then just because you enjoy it.”

“You were the one who called it a lifestyle.”

“I did,” admitted Roman. “Tell me about a time then when there weren’t other motives involved. Beyond your own instinctual ones that is.”

Go with an old memory or new? He decided new.

“You know how your mother didn’t believe me? About the scars?”

A nod.

“Well, after that whirlwind of an interview and realizing I did have a chance at some steady pay, I decided to treat myself.”

Roman seemed utterly fascinated. He scooted forward, just barely on the edge of the booth. “Just like that? Right after leaving?”

“Well not right then. But I will admit to taking the transit home and seeing just the prettiest little thing getting on. She strained her head to look out the window. The way she swallowed, oh you should have seen it. I could practically see the blood rushing up and down that neck. The slight bob to the throat, and I knew I just wanted to open her up.”

“Then you just followed her?”

“I did. I followed her and grabbed her hair and yanked her body into mine.”

“Didn’t she scream?”

“Most don’t. Not at first. The shock hits as the mind tries to catch up with what the body already knows. And by that point, I had my hand over her mouth, fingers digging into her cheeks, her lips on my palm trying to push open to let out that scream that had come too late.”

They were so fucking close. If the table were only a little thinner, Victor was sure their knees would be knocking together.

“I could feel her pulse. How it pounded when I refused to let her go. I backed up. Used an alley wall for support as I kept her from running. I pulled out a knife and pressed it to the skin.” He reached out, fingers barely touching the edge of Roman’s jawline. “Right there and as I pressed in, I watched the bead of red form.”

“Was it difficult?” As Roman spoke, Victor could just barely feel an increase of his pulse from where he was keeping his fingers.

“The funny thing is, you’d think they’d struggle more with the knife pushing into them. Wouldn’t you?”

Roman nodded.

“But most don’t. Up until that point, they think robbery, rape, but at least they’re going to survive it. Right? Feeling that warm drop of blood though, that’s the real wake up call. It tells them that they could die and the average person freezes. Maybe if they go along, they won’t die. I’ve had people beg me to take everything from them, thinking that would save them.

“So no. She didn’t struggle. She became more malleable as I held her all the tighter. A metal knife usually causes a bit of give, especially if not perfectly sharp, but I was using a nylon knife. She parted like a doll, the stitching going lose and her neck falling open for me. Just so.” Victor made the same motion on Roman’s neck. He loved how he could feel Roman swallowing just before dropping his hand. “And once the fun was gone? I discarded her in a dumpster.”

Silence fell upon them both. Roman was taking everything in as Victor took Roman’s reactions in. Getting to see such awe, an ever-growing sense of curiosity, it was wonderful.

Roman spoke first, his voice a soft whisper. They both tried to move closer even though the table kept it from happening. “You already had the knife on you? Even though you’d just come from talking with my mother?”

“Slipped it through Janus Corps’ security.”

A breathless laugh. Roman’s lips went slack for a second before he asked, “Do you always carry?”

“At least something. I’d feel naked without it.”

“What do you have on now?”

Victor pulled out three knives. The last one he propped his leg up on his booth in what was probably considered a very improper way for the establishment. Victor didn’t care though and Roman didn’t correct him. He slipped out the small knife from his boot and set it down with the other two on the table before turning to face Roman again. His eyes probed Victor for more.

“I can carry more, but I don’t want to weigh myself down or risk constricting my movement,” Victor said. “Three I find is usually good enough. One small enough to throw, another well enough to crack bone with the proper amount of force. But as long as I have one, I’m comfortable. If I don’t, you can bet I’m looking for anything sharp in my vicinity to use as a temporary blade.”

Roman’s hand roamed over them. He didn’t touch them though. Not until he asked, “May I?”

Victor’s smile widened just a little. “You don’t strike me as someone who asks permission very often.” He also inclined his head, showing Roman that he could.

“I very rarely do. Count this as an honor.”

Oh, Victor absolutely would as he watched Roman pick up the middle knife. As Roman twisted his wrist left and right, Victor noted that there wasn’t a sense of jealousy. There wasn’t any anxiety at having his tools in another’s hand. If anything, he enjoyed the image, watching Roman test the weight, slightly different ways of holding it. Things like that.

When the food arrived, the server stuttered. The way they’d quickly glanced to Victor showed they’d already been told of his presence. But they clearly hadn’t been prepared for the collection of knives. Roman set the one he currently held down. Victor put them all away as the server set the dishes down. They backed up quickly, not that Roman paid them any attention as he said, “I’m surprised about their state. Considering your own of course.”

Victor smirked. “A rusted knife is no fucking good. I’ve lived on the streets every now and again for short stretches of time. But trust me. My knives were always taken care of.”

“I can believe it,” murmured Roman.

He leaned back finally. Victor had to resist the urge to whine as he could tell the current conversation was over. He could say more on the matter. He could tell Roman everything to the smallest detail. What about the first time he’d slit a throat? He’d pulled too hard. Too deep. Did he want to know what it felt like as the smooth motion of a knife halted against the spine? Or what about the noises? The sound someone made when they were cut lower versus through their vocal box—

No, he was getting too eager. There would hopefully be more time for that. He just had to be a little patient.

Victor looked at his own dish which was the same as Roman’s. He was pretty sure the main part was…well actually he couldn’t say for sure. It was meat, maybe chicken, but he wasn’t positive. There were other things mixed in, carrots and cauliflower and vegetables he just didn’t know or were cooked in a state he didn’t recognize. Oh well. It smelled good and sure as hell looked more appealing than the soup from yesterday.

His gums were still tender though, so he ate at about half the pace of Roman. Victor imagined such plates were ordered less often at night when drinking became the main focus. But the few patrons around them also seemed to be eating full meals so maybe that was just the aesthetic of the place. Like a bar and grill only obviously more up scaled. And Victor was pretty sure that if he’d called The Stacked Deck a bar and grill, Roman would have driven a fork through his hand.

With Victor eating at a slower pace though and needing to be careful how he moved food around his mouth, Roman started to do most of the talking. He first complained about the business he’d done that day, the orders given by his parents. Victor didn’t really care about the content, but he found he didn’t mind watching Roman rant in general. It kind of made Victor wish he would explode again. Victor wanted to see Roman crush another man’s hand, maybe worse. However, there was no one to directly force his anger onto and the servers here were clearly smarter. They managed to avoid any crushing words, a slap, or broken plates by purposefully avoiding Victor and Roman and never risking interrupting the rant.

The conversation somewhat changed when Roman flippantly said, “I’m meeting an acquaintance at four. Until then, my schedule is empty. How much of Gotham have you really seen?”

“Not much besides the area I live in.”

“Cassamento’s territory. Utterly putrid,” grunted Roman. “I suppose seeing more of what Gotham truly had to offer would fall on deaf ears to you-fuck it. It’s been a while since I’ve driven around just to drive. Are you done?”

Close enough. Victor pushed his plate away and drank the last bit of his ale.

“Let’s go.”

This time Victor didn’t question the leaving without paying. From now on, he was going to assume that most places Roman or his parents probably had a tab open at all times.

Victor got in and Roman instructed him on where to drive. Victor half expected it to be Roman trying to fan his money and a way for him to show off the richer areas of Gotham just because he could. However, Victor was prepared when those expectations were wonderfully dashed.

It became more an act of Roman airing people’s dirty laundry, calling them fucking fake and revealing all the lies they tried to tell the world.

Imagining Roman surrounded by anything but his expensive tastes was difficult. And Victor had a feeling that if Roman ever saw his current apartment, he’d want to burn it to the ground. But it was clear he hated the masks others wore. It was almost an obsession, possibly brought on by his parents? Victor hadn’t met Mr. Sionis yet, but that was his best guess. Roman would likely never step below his class as far as what he wore, ate, drove in, anything like that, but it was clear he didn’t want to be made up as some fake thing.

Victor realized he didn’t want him to become some fake thing. A copy of his parents and owner of Janus Corp as Victor guessed was the plan. Roman was too interesting to be crushed by such a limited social role.

The time passed with Roman quickly. Far too soon he was telling Victor it was time he met his acquaintance and Victor was following a new set of directions. They went to a coffee shop where Roman met with some other rich shmuck. They sat at a small table meant only for two. Since Victor hadn’t been told to stay in the car, he ended up standing right behind Roman the entire time. A quick glance at Roman’s body language told him he approved. It was certainly putting the acquaintance off and no one sat anywhere near them.

After a long conversation, Roman finally excused himself and Victor followed again. As they walked back to the car, Roman said, “Don’t worry. When I’m less busy, I’ll show you the fun of the nightlife here. It’s far more interesting than the daytime. For now, back to the estate.”

Victor nodded.

At the car, he managed to remember the way back, again with only one comment from Roman about a shortcut. If Victor was going to stay with Roman much longer, he was sure he’d start to remember the best routes and paths across Gotham.

This time Victor drove up the driveway and dropped Roman off right at the front doors. As Roman got out, he said, “Now tomorrow—”

“Is Wednesday. Not picking you up,” Victor quickly said.

“Good. You remember. I’ll see you Thursday.”

Roman left and Victor quickly pulled around and away. He picked up food on the way home and then stopped by O’Malley’s. If he wasn’t going to be with Roman tomorrow, then he might as well look for any open contracts.

The usual nightlife of the bar was in full swing, if a little extra rowdy. Victor ducked as glass went flying. One group in a corner were fighting. The rest were cheering them on or minding their own business and keeping their noses to their beer.

“Hey! Hey!” yelled Alice. She ran around the bar and tried to pull one of the guys off.

Victor found a spot at the bar and spun around to watch.

Alice’s attempts weren’t successful. Instead, she got an elbow to her nose. She would have gone down except she fell back into the small crowd surrounding the fight. They pushed her forward again and this time she managed to stay on her feet. She stole the nearest beer bottle, the drunken man who’d been holding it closing his hand on empty air in confusion. She smashed the bottle over the nearest man’s head.

The bar cheered.

“Take it outside Waylon!”

The larger one grabbed the one who’d gotten hit by Alice, wrestled him through the crowd and then out the front door. A few followed to watch the continuing fight. Most just turned back to who they were with or started nursing their drinks again as the doors closed.

Alice rubbed some of the blood from her nose onto her shirt. Victor whistled at her as she walked back around the bar. “Jervis is going to be pissy about that.”

“Well he’s going to have to deal with it. At least right in here I have some control. Besides, Strange wouldn’t want to bring someone else to run the day job.”

“Fair,” said Victor. “Speaking of, you got any jobs?”

“None that you’ll like. Strange needs you tomorrow to move another body.”

Victor let out a long groan. He’d take it though. He still needed money while he waited for that first paycheck after all. “Fine. But first, I am incredibly pissed at you and thankful.”

“Why both?” she said with a skeptical look.

“One, when I asked for fucking directions, you didn’t tell me that Strange fucking worked at Arkham!”

She shrugged. “If you didn’t know, I figured you’d find out soon enough.”

“You’re a bitch, but thanks all the same.”

“About the job?”

“Roman Sionis is definitely the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”

“Good, then it’ll be long term. You can tell Strange tomorrow that you’re not working for him again and you can finally leave us all the fuck alone.”

“Patience,” grinned Victor. “And I won’t ever leave you alone.”

“Fuck you.”

His smile just widened as he jumped back off the barstool.

Alice looked confused but also a little relieved. “You’re not staying?”

“Got food in the car. See you tomorrow Alice.”

She made a disgusted noise as Victor moved back between people and left.

At home, he ate and went back over some of those apartments he’d been looking at. He narrowed the search a bit and thought about calling some of the places tomorrow. However, though necessary, just looking at the apartments bored him pretty quickly. After a few minutes, Victor pulled up the video again.

He fell back on his small, ratty bed, watching it until it got to the point when Roman had grabbed the paperweight. Victor watched the action and then rewound the scene. He watched it again, imagined how it must have sounded in the office. The crunch of bone. The other man’s scream.

Then Victor played the small section again.

And again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another chapter! Hope you enjoy!

On Wednesday, Victor didn’t go to O’Malley’s immediately. Strange probably wouldn’t be done with whatever experiment he had until midday or that afternoon anyways. Because of that, Victor had some time for himself.

But what to do?

He could lounge in his apartment. He could make those calls he’d thought about yesterday. See about those other apartments. His fridge was getting low. Or maybe he could go searching for a fun time in an alley or some abandoned building somewhere. That last one was especially tempting and yet…

He’d really have to wait to see Roman until tomorrow. Wouldn’t he?

Urgh! That was too long. It felt too long.

It shouldn’t have felt too long. Waiting two weeks without slitting the throat of a living person was too long. Waiting twenty-four hours to clean a knife was too long. He hadn’t even known Roman a week and just waiting one day to see him again shouldn’t have been too long. But he wanted to learn more. He wanted to see an act of violence from Roman again. Broken fingers were fine but what if Roman did something more? What if he actually used a knife? Some other tool? What if he took out a gun and unloaded six bullets into someone’s chest?

Victor wanted to see that. He wanted to see it all. Maybe they could work up to such violent actions one day, but he knew something like that wouldn’t happen right now. Yet he still wished to just see him.

Well, as long as Victor had a few hours to himself…

Going in the car was out of the question. He’d be recognized right away so Victor walked to the transit again. Considering this was the one time when Roman didn’t want him around, he guessed that the entire day would involve business. Did that mean he could be at the estate? He could be at a different building or a warehouse that Victor didn’t know of.

If that happened, then Victor would probably put his irritation towards some new victim before seeing Strange. Until that, Victor would at least try to see if he could spot Roman, even for a second. His best guess then was going to Janus Corp and waiting.

Even if his guess was correct though, there was the chance that he would miss Roman, arriving later than him or something like that. But still Victor went. He arrived on the block that the headquarters of the company resided in. He went searching for a good spot to stay. He couldn’t just remain on the sidewalk. He stood out too much and if Roman did come, Victor didn’t doubt he’d be spotted.

However, knowing where Roman lived and where they’d parked before meant Victor could guess the most likely direction he’d come from too. Because of that, Victor found a spot on some steps, up near the top and obscured from one side of another building. He sat down and at first tried to be productive in continuing his search for a new apartment. However, he didn’t want his attention divided and risk Roman walking by and not spotting him.

With that in mind, Victor eventually put his phone away but remained where he was.

His eyes quickly moved over everyone that walked left and right. The shadows slowly grew shorter as the sun moved higher into the sky. In about another hour he should probably head back to see what Strange needed but he didn’t want to leave too soon—

There! He finally spotted Roman.

Though obviously fitting in with the general class around him, his flashier clothes stood out against the black and white business attire. It allowed Victor’s eyes to easily follow him the entire time, along with another man that walked closely behind him. A different driver? He looked like he might be an assistant, a secretary or something considering everything he was carrying. That was probably why he was chosen. Victor certainly wouldn’t have known any of the jargon on the pages being carried, but he still felt a sense of jealousy at being forced to stay away. Even if it was only one day out of the week.

Victor watched until they were inside the building. He even pulled out his phone again, watching and recording. Before disappearing to where the elevators were, the man following close behind must have said something to piss Roman off.

He spun around, knocking his arm against the other man hard and causing everything the guy was carrying to go crashing to the ground. Roman marched away, still fuming as the guy scrambled around on the ground.

At least that made Victor feel a little better.

With Roman moving out of view though, it was time to get going. It wasn’t much, but it was something. It should tide Victor over until tomorrow. At least it hopefully would.

Victor pocketed his phone and finally moved from his spot. He got food from a vendor when he got close to the transit and then took it back to his end of town. He headed straight to O’Malley’s. Even if Strange didn’t need him right away, he could probably fuck with Alice some.

This time the bar was still open, though it was quiet as was usual for so early in the day. There was one passed out drunk, a man and a woman looking like they were planning a murder in the corner, and three at their own table that looked like they’d just wanted to start drinking early.

Victor ignored them all. Alice was walking back and forth, cleaning glasses and placing things back in their correct spots. Instead of sitting, Victor followed her. He walked left, then right for several seconds before she stopped to look at him.

“Strange isn’t ready for you if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

“Figured. I’m bored.”

“I’m not here to curb your boredom Victor.”

“You could be.”

“If you’re talking about a quick fuck, I’d rather ask Dr. Strange. And if you’re talking about killing me, I’d rather kill myself before giving you the god damn satisfaction.”

“You wouldn’t let me kill you?” whined Victor. “I’m hurt.”

Alice shot him her classic ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’ look before going to grab a beer. Victor finally sat as she popped the top off on the edge of the counter. She slid it over.

“I’m surprised Jervis isn’t here trying to convince you that you shouldn’t be tending the bar after yesterday.”

“He has clients or else he would.”

Victor shook his head. “Do people really believe in that hypno-bullshit? I don’t get how you could make a living with that. For Strange or him.”

“Strange is a psychiatrist and a surgeon. Jervis is a psychologist with a specialty in hypno-therapy. There is a difference.”

“But aren’t they both doctors?”

“You know, you can be painfully ignorant on shit if it doesn’t involve goddamn knives.”

Victor shrugged.

Alice just let out a long groan as she walked away. As Victor sipped at his beer, a woman came in that Alice quickly served. When she was back behind the bar, Victor asked, “So when is Strange going to be done?”

“I don’t know. I just know he wanted you to move some things for him today.”

Victor let out a long, bored sigh. He probably shouldn’t leave right now, but god, what to do? He finished his beer in a few minutes. Alice set another in front of him as he pulled out his phone. She walked away as Victor pulled up the two videos he had so far, looking between both of them. On Alice’s second walk by, she slowed. Her eyes widened as she looked down at Victor’s phone. Suddenly she was grabbing his shirt and pulling him partially over the bar. His current beer was knocked over, the rest of its contents splashing onto the floor.

“Are you fucking serious!”

A few heads turned, but upon seeing it involved Victor, they quickly turned away.

“What?”

Alice let go of him and covered her face with her hands. She let out a quick, frustrated scream into them before looking at him again. “The whole reason I told you about the job with Sionis was to get rid of you!”

He rolled his eyes. “I already knew that.” He returned his stare to the video. He paused it at a point where he could see Roman’s profile.

“Yeah, but that’s not going to work if you’re stalking your god damn employer.”

“I’m not stalking him,” snorted Victor. “I simply wanted to see more. And I did.” He wanted to see more again. He’d have to figure out how to more effectively follow Roman at some point though. Did he have an office at Janus Corp that his parents forced him into? Victor wanted to see it if he did.

“You’re fucking stalking him! And If he finds out, then that means my whole plan of sending you on your way is done for.”

“Doesn’t stalking include causing the person a certain amount of fear? I would never do that,” murmured Victor. He didn’t think he could, which was honestly part of the fun. He’d told Roman only a little, but the details should have made anyone run away already. But Roman hadn’t. He’d been drawn in. No one had ever been drawn to Victor, his work, like that. No, he would never cause Roman any fear. Unless he wanted it of course. Victor zoomed in on the paused image on screen.

Alice clenched her fists until they turned white at the knuckles. She slowly breathed out and then slammed her hands on the counter. Victor glanced up again.

“Don’t fuck this up Victor.”

Victor looked down again. He smiled. “I won’t.”

“Jesus, you’re obsessed.”

He didn’t argue, just finally un-paused the video and kept watching as Alice replaced his beer.

About fifteen minutes later, Alice came near him again and gestured to the back. Victor finished the rest of his bottle and put his phone away. As he walked into the back and down, he wasn’t surprised to see Strange taking notes over a new corpse. Victor briefly wondered if the corpses were a sign that things were going well or not. He didn’t really care though and automatically went to grab what he needed. However, as he was pulling out some rope, Strange spoke.

“Tell me. How is the young Sionis doing? Any violent outbursts?”

Victor’s response was automatic. “Client confidentiality. You know how it goes.” It was probably a little stupid to be so defiant. He half expected Strange to threaten him again. Instead, the doctor smiled. Somehow that was more unnerving, and Victor didn’t become unnerved very easily.

“I doubt his mental state will continue to improve with you at his side. Then again, I don’t think it would improve with anything short of surgery. And that’s out of the question as ordered by Mr. and Mrs. Sionis.”

Victor’s eyes narrowed at that. By conventional senses, Roman was probably crazy. Victor was definitely crazy. He was at least self-aware. But in Victor’s mind and from what he’d seen so far, Roman’s mentality was perfect. But with Strange’s words, Victor felt oddly protective. He’d never felt like that with another person. Only his knives when someone else picked them up or took them. But the idea Strange might try and—

“I will not be convincing Mr. or Mrs. Sionis that you should be removed from his side,” Strange said with a low chuckle. He wrote something down in his notes.

Victor supposed that if anyone wasn’t concerned about the well-being of their patients, especially in what would be considered a normal sense, it would be Strange. Still, it made Victor suspicious. He decided to go ahead and add, “You know, they hired me to stay by Roman’s side most of the time. I probably won’t be able to just come here and move your bodies for you anymore.”

“I’ve already come to that conclusion Victor.”

Since Strange had just turned his back, Victor silently mimicked him with a wrinkled nose and a roll of his eyes.

“Considering our different proclivities, I doubted this partnership would last much longer without one of us killing the other. Should you need my services, like replacements for your teeth, I expect normal payment from now on. Though if you find time in your busy schedule, I will accept a trade of services again.”

“As long as you don’t think I’ll be able to just drop everything to help you out.”

“I do have other connections, and with far more manners. You were simply convenient for a time. Now, dispose of this body as you normally would. I’ll leave your payment with Alice upstairs.”

Victor resisted the urge to make a snide comment. All things considered, this was going more smoothly than expected. He was almost out. Besides getting his gums fixed, Victor would hopefully never have to see Strange again besides the occasional visit to Arkham if Roman went again.

Victor just focused on getting the tools he needed and soon Strange was gone. He moved quickly, wrapping the man tightly up and going to the ground floor. He went out the back and then did a similar process as before. Slice, chop, bag each individual piece up, and dump it. An easy job with an easy paycheck. He went back to O’Malley’s.

Alice passed over the cash the moment he stopped at the counter.

“Well, it looks like you got your wish. I shouldn’t be doing work for Strange anytime soon, though I of course don’t plan to change my favorite bar.”

“Of course,” sighed Alice. Still, she looked relieved with the idea that Victor wouldn’t be involved with Strange and her brother’s work anymore. “Please don’t fuck up your current employment opportunity.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Victor grinned.

He left and got in his car. It was late now, almost eight. He could go back downtown. If Roman had stayed the whole day, Victor might be able to catch him leaving the building. But no, by the time Victor got downtown using the transit system, Roman would definitely be gone if he wasn’t already. Instead, Victor drove to a spot where he’d bought information now and again, usually in regards to helping him finish off a special contract. It would take a few days for Victor to get the information he’d requested, but it would all be worth it in the end.

Once Victor knew the layout, knew the location thanks to a hacker if Roman did have a singular office, he could start looking for buildings around Janus Corp that might give him a good enough view inside.

With the purchase made, Victor went shopping for food and then went home again. This time he managed to do a bit more work on finding another apartment, even calling two about availabilities and offers whose offices were open late. It was boring, but all he had to do was interlay the work with glancing back at those videos he’d taken thus far. It helped to keep him on track until it was past ten and Victor was finally going to bed.

He got up, made a quick breakfast, and was soon driving back to Roman’s estate the next day.

Victor went up to the front doors again, and like before, the same butler opened the door as Roman quickly went down the stairs.

“How old is he? Like a hundred?” asked Victor as Roman got in.

“Seems like that sometimes. He’s been with my father since he was a young man and just won’t fucking die already.”

Victor smiled at that. He started to pull away. “If you want rid of him, I could do that.”

“For an extra sum than what your current salary is I assume.”

“No, just because.”

Roman’s eyes lighted at that. Would he take the offer? He might not realize Victor was being honest with the offer, but he was. Victor was working for him after all. If Roman really wanted someone dead, Victor could do that. Would that please him? Victor hoped so.

“As…entertaining as that might be, I couldn’t risk my father finding out. He’d put me away for making such a move against him.”

So not an outright no. Victor wondered if Roman had ever had anyone killed for him. He didn’t think so, but Victor guessed that Roman had certainly thought about it. Had he tried to conjure up the minute details? Even dreamed of it? Victor replied, “He wouldn’t know it was you.”

“Well then he’d have you taken away and I can’t have that, now can I? This fascinating relationship has only just begun. I can’t have it ending so soon.”

Victor’s smile widened at that. “Of course.” He wouldn’t press the matter further with Roman then. But…oh he had ideas. Would it upset Roman? Maybe initially if he thought the police could trace it back to him. He would learn though. This could be an opportunity for Victor to prove himself to Roman. To really show just how capable he was.

He wouldn’t use his usual tools though. Even if it couldn’t be proven, he didn’t want to direct suspicion his or Roman’s way. The kill wouldn’t be as satisfying then, but for once, that was ok. If it pleased Roman, Victor could deal with a less than satisfying end, to not carve his blades over another’s skin. The satisfaction he might get from Roman’s approval would be enough.

His mind focused back on what Roman was saying as he listed out what they would be doing today. When he said Gotham General, Victor finally stopped him.

“Why the hospital?”

“For you, obviously. There’s an event you’ll be attending with me next week and I won’t have you missing teeth while there.”

Victor wondered what kind of event. He guessed it didn’t involve Janus Corp, or at least not directly, since Roman’s parents hadn’t banned him from it. Still, it would probably be very rich and fancy and not Victor’s scene at all. But he would put up with it for Roman.

“First a car before I even started, then a phone on our first day together, and now new teeth? I’m beginning to feel pampered.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “Well I sure as hell wasn’t going to let Strange work on you again. As entertaining as it is to imagine that old fart working as a back-alley surgeon for the criminals of Gotham, he has his hands on enough involving my family. I won’t have him touching anything else of mine.”

Mine?

_Mine?_

It took all of Victor’s strength to continue focusing on the road.

The idea that he was anyone’s at least brought a level of indifference to him or grew to a deep rooted anger. He’d hated how Strange had tried to control his actions, even in small ways. There’d been others in his past like that. Sometimes Victor managed to deal with it if only so he could benefit himself later on. But he’d always known that he wasn’t truly anyone’s. And now Roman had just called him ‘mine’ like he was some object that could just be owned?

And Victor really didn’t mind it.

If anything, he felt a little warmer for it.

Roman’s words broke through the temporary fog that Victor was trying to deal with. “Hey, fucking pay attention. I’m still not done with explaining what we’re doing today. Anyways…”

Victor could only smile as Roman kept going and they drove into the city of Gotham.

The first stop was an art gallery. Apparently, a new collection had been introduced and Roman was adamant about seeing it. From Victor’s understanding, it was open to those that could actually afford the paintings and sculptures inside rather than the general public that probably acted like it was a small museum. It would be opened to the public later, but the rich and famous got their pick first, possibly taking pieces of art away so that the public could never see them.

Roman seemed to enjoy the company of the curator more than most. With others, it seemed he never fully hid his distaste, yet here there was none. It seemed the mutual appreciation for art was shared between them as the thin, almost garish looking man showed Roman around. He almost looked like he could be one of the gray statues he was showing off.

The curator spent the majority of his time by Roman’s side, but when it was finally just Victor and Roman again, Roman nudged him with his elbow. He shot him a devilish smile.

“Jealous?”

Victor thought about when he’d defensively denied not wanting to tell Roman more. He resisted the urge to do the same here. He’d just been thrown off by his own eagerness. Now he could admit he was a bit jealous. He was certainly jealous of the man Roman had allowed to drive him around yesterday. But Victor would deal with that person later. For now, he begrudgingly said, “Yes.”

“You can’t be an expert in everything I’m interested in. And I do value that you haven’t complained once about the places I’ve taken you to despite how apparent it is you don’t belong.”

“Getting to watch other’s discomfort about having me around makes up for it. And being by your side makes the scenario’s far more interesting as well.”

“Believe me. You do the same for me,” sighed Roman. “And you needn’t get too jealous. I can still value a novice’s take.” Roman grabbed Victor’s arm and dragged him in front of a painting. He didn’t let go, holding him close as he gestured in front of them. “This, for example. What do you think?”

Victor’s eyes roamed over the hanging art. He cocked his head to the side like most people would do if deep in thought about something or trying to get a new perspective on it. To be fair, Victor was going to give Roman his best answer. However, the action was more to get even closer to him. At this distance, Victor could appreciate Roman’s height, his well-built frame. Victor could so easily slip out a knife right now and drag it across Roman’s throat.

And Roman knew that.

He knew of what Victor had done, and yet he still held him so close. It felt possessive, like Roman calling him ‘mine’. Victor just wanted to lean a little further into him. Instead, he answered Roman’s question. “Dull.”

“Hmm, I was afraid you’d say that. I’m used to appreciating this particular artist, but their sense of expression has dropped recently. Here.”

Roman dragged him to another spot. The curator had already gone over this painting with Roman, but he still asked Victor’s opinion. “What of this one? The moment I saw it, I couldn’t get it out of my head.”

Victor’s eyes moved over it. He couldn’t truly appreciate the work that had gone into it, having no idea if the technique was viewed as masterful or not by the rest of the art world. At first, he didn’t like it. It seemed like just a bunch of harsh lines and dull colors. However, now that he was focusing on it again with Roman holding him there, he looked a little harder.

Oh.

So that’s what it showed.

Victor just wasn’t used to looking at images that were styled to not perfectly resemble reality. Yet now that he’d picked out the image, he couldn’t unsee it. The ghostly scream and the mixing with red-was it meant to be blood? Victor had no idea if that was the intent, but he liked it more.

“Isn’t there a word for dark paintings like this?”

“Art that depicts similar images or events would be described as macabre.”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“So…”

“I like it.” He glanced up to Roman and dropped his voice only slightly. “Makes me think of a good night out.”

“Well then that’s good enough for me.”

Roman gestured for the curator again and proceeded to buy the piece for what Victor thought was a ridiculous amount. But hell. For all he knew it could have been on the low end of what art like that usually ran for. He had no idea. What really mattered was that Roman had picked it simply because of what Victor had said. It pleased Victor to no end.

After arraignments were made for it be shipped to the estate, they went back to the car and Roman instructed Victor on how to get to Gotham General.

Once inside, Victor could honestly say he would have preferred going to another art installation. Even one full of dull, indifferent paintings. They were seen right away of course with Roman’s money backing him, but it was Victor who had to sit in the damn chair and get poked and prodded. At least it wasn’t Strange doing it.

They had to go over the area again, fucking Strange apparently missing something that would cause infection and other issues when the replacements were put in. It would set Victor back a couple of days, though Roman just cared if Victor would be able to get the replacements before the event and the doctor assured him they would.

After that, Roman decided on lunch which just left Victor groaning.

“I cannot wait to get this fixed. I swear,” grumbled Victor as he poked at his tender gums with his tongue.

“You told me it was a drunken fight?”

“To be fair, I apparently didn’t start it.”

Roman laughed at that. “Well, just a few more days and you’ll have that garish hole gone. We’ll eat, stop by a few places afterwards, perhaps have dinner first, and then I can finally show you the night life of Gotham.”

“I look forward to it.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick reminder that this story is rated explicit and has a warning for extreme violence because the ending of this chapter is particularly gruesome (though it's also Victor Zsasz and Roman Sionis so no one should be too surprised by this). Anyways, thank you again for all the comments coming in! It's great to see the reactions and to hear how you like each chapter going forward. Thank you again and hope you enjoy!

After lunch, Victor took Roman to several shops. Some of them he spent more time talking with the people around them, but on a few he actually skimmed over the racks, explaining he needed something for the event next week.

“I’m going to be honest,” Victor eventually said, “I can at least appreciate the painting you bought. But all this completely confuses me. You have to already have something to wear.”

“Yes, but nothing new! Nothing that’s in!” growled Roman.

“And you’re willing to pay—” Victor glanced at a tag. “—around one thousand dollars for it?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Victor repeated with a disbelieving look. He suddenly stopped though when Roman pulled out a shirt and held it in front of Victor’s torso. “Oh no.”

“What? You think I’m going to let you go in rags like that? Don’t worry though. We can save shopping for you later.”

“Or never.”

“What? Will this really be the thing to break this relationship?” grinned Roman. “I don’t think so. Besides, we’ll make sure it fits your—” He waved his hand flippantly at him. “—general style. I’m not foolish enough to try and dress you up like you’re something you’re not.”

“Well…as long as it’s not some suit and tie shit.”

“Oh no. Those are boring as sin and I myself try to avoid that look if at all possible. I wouldn’t dream of forcing you into something like that.”

Victor chuckled.

Even if he was still against having clothes bought for him, not seeing the rhyme or reason for it, he enjoyed that there already seemed to be a rapport between them. Victor could usually talk to anyone. It was that most didn’t know how to respond to him or didn’t want to put up with him. But Roman was so easy to go back and forth with, almost like they’d known each other for years rather than a few days.

They continued to go back and forth as they went from store to store. Roman managed to find something he liked and arranged it to be shipped to his home. Then it was time for dinner. It was the first dinner Victor had with Roman. Even if it irritated him, Victor had to question the why of it.

“Were you requested home by your parents the other times?”

Roman’s face predictably wrinkled. “There was business to attend to…but yes.” There was a serious level of bite to Romans words. Many would have heard it as a warning, would have shut up. Victor kept going though. Even if an act of violence started to rise up, even if it was directed at himself, he was ok with that. Maybe he would even end up liking it. But the main reason to push despite the warnings was to simply learn more about Roman.

Victor would hopefully find other ways to worm into Roman’s life, particularly when he couldn’t be right by Roman’s side, but for now, Victor would just make do with what he had.

He said, “You could have said no.”

“Even a Sionis knows not to say no to a Sionis,” growled Roman.

“But you’re better than them. You don’t hide your true self.”

That at least seemed to please Roman, even if his general sour mood didn’t disappear. “Perhaps, but you’ll just never understand what it’s like to live with such responsibilities. Such…orders.”

“You could still refuse them.”

“I can’t.”

“Then you could have me kill them.”

Roman let out a sharp laugh that had everyone in the restaurant turning to them. A wicked grin spread over his face as he leaned forward. Victor mimicked the action. “Is that your answer to everything?”

“It’s a valid answer.”

“Sometimes I wish you were right.”

“We could try it some time. See which one of us is correct.”

“Someday, perhaps. But as enjoyable as it would be, I can’t just have you kill my parents. Besides, then the company and the estate would fall to me and…no. It’s a bad idea Victor. No matter how amusing.”

The phrasing made Victor curious. Did Roman not want his parents’ inheritance? If he didn’t, that actually pleased Victor to no end. After all, he’d already decided falling into such a social role wasn’t for Roman. Perhaps Roman just need a little push, to learn that he had other options, that he could strike out on his own. Perhaps Victor just needed to prove to him how valuable murder was as a tool. It was a perfect solution in many options and Victor’s mind went back to the butler.

Though killing the parents would have been nice, best not to start out so big. First, he’d kill the butler. That would certainly please Roman, along with proving Victor’s capabilities and the value of such cruel actions. The parents probably wouldn’t come after that, but at least killing the butler would open Roman up to more ideas. He’d grow more willing, more accepting of the violence, and then Victor might kill his parents. Anything to be helpful after all.

But Victor dropped the conversation for now and he pushed back the planning for later.

Roman was clearly pleased with the decision as he jumped into describing the nightlife of Gotham. It seemed there would be a lot of drinking ahead of them, a lot which Victor would love to fully partake in. However, whatever fun Roman wanted to get into, Victor would still have to drive. Either Roman wasn’t thinking about that or he honestly didn’t care if Victor drove drunk. Either way, Victor didn’t interrupt except for an occasional question here or there.

They finished dinner and then Victor drove them to a particular strip of Gotham full of neon lights and revealing clothes.

Even there, he managed to note the security detail. Victor could always pick them out no matter where they went. He briefly wondered if they would follow them into the throng of people or simply stay on the outside, ready to move whenever Roman decided to leave the current establishment.

It didn’t really matter either way. If the threat on Roman’s life was true and someone came, the security detail wouldn’t be any help anyways. Victor was all that was needed. He simply kept close to Roman, walking onto the sidewalk and indoors.

To be fair, it wasn’t like the place wasn’t Victor’s scene.

Darkened rooms with low or flashing lights and young men and women too drunk to pay attention to their surroundings was certainly a good time for Victor. The places he’d gone to like this just usually didn’t have drinks priced in the hundreds or were quite so clean. And Victor would have normally been latching onto some young thing, following them across the dance floor or watching them at the bar.

There had once been a man at a club so drunk that he couldn’t have known up for down. Victor had let himself be dragged out. He’d let the man assume all manner of things, Victor’s grin never dropping. And then in the alley as Victor smiled against the man’s lips, he’d stabbed him in the chest. That had been such a good time.

And now he’d have to keep this place in mind if he ever needed to find a quick and easy target. In some ways, it looked like taking someone could be even easier, the richer class probably feeling safer as they thought no degenerate could get in. For the moment though, his eyes were completely focused on Roman.

No time was wasted in downing drink after drink. Victor took advantage of the low visibility to be even closer than usual as Roman rambled on, not really loud enough to be clearly heard over the music, but that was ok. Victor just enjoyed watching him.

Roman was letting loose, not caring about anything around him. Victor would like to see him in such a state again, but preferably in a setting he completely controlled. Oh how Roman might have held himself then. Victor was sure Roman could achieve it. He had the ability to. He just needed that first break, to realize what freedom he could have if his parents or Janus Corp weren’t hovering over them.

They didn’t stay in the same club the entire time though. They slipped to two other places over the course of the night.

From what Victor could tell, the first change was because Roman had grown bored of the atmosphere. The second because he’d broken a man’s finger who’d bumped into him. Whether no one had called security on him because he was a Sionis or they’d simply moved quick enough, Victor wasn’t sure. But either way they went to the third club by about one in the morning.

Victor kind of wished he’d had a chance to record that encounter. At least he’d actually been present this time. He hadn’t had to imagine it. Even with the loud music, he’d heard the man’s instinctual scream. Victor couldn’t drop his smile after that as Roman pulled him away.

In the third club, Roman and some young woman seemed to know each other. It finally caused more of a separation between them as Roman dragged her onto the dance floor after a short conversation. It was difficult to tell if it was by choice or force or if she was too inebriated to care. Victor’s eyes narrowed at the display, but he stayed where he was, letting Roman have his fun with her.

He nursed only his second drink, obviously wanting to stay aware of his surroundings as best he could while also watching Roman move in the throng. Victor’s eyes took in everything at the way Roman grabbed the woman so she couldn’t step away even if she wanted to, forced his tongue down her throat.

Victor’s stomach curled.

That particular display admittedly distracted Victor to the point that it took him several long seconds to realize the shouted ‘hey’ nearby was directed at him. To be fair, there was a lot of noise going on around him. The last thing he had expected was for someone to want to talk to him. The only aspect that he had in common with the current crowd was being young.

For the first time that night, he completely pulled his eyes away from Roman. A woman stood at his side. She looked around his age though the low lighting made it difficult to tell for sure. Her way of dress gave her away though, just as much as Victor’s. She didn’t naturally belong here. So why was she-ah.

The moment she started talking again, it clicked in Victor’s head.

“Hey! You were the driver? Weren’t you?”

He didn’t directly answer, instead stating loudly, “You’re the woman Roman spoke with. Ms. Vale, right?”

That gave the woman her answer though as she replied, “Then you are the driver!”

She got closer, clearly making the conversation as private as possible. To be fair, no one around them was paying attention to them. A quick glance in Victor’s peripherals told him Roman definitely wasn’t, tongue still down the woman’s throat and hands grabbing her hips.

Vale spoke again, still speaking loudly but no longer needing to shout as they stayed shoulder to shoulder. Her height plus heels made it so they were at eye level. “Just call me Vicki. I work for the _Gotham Gazette_.”

“I thought you might be a reporter or some kind of journalist.”

“Thought? Most people just recognize me on the spot.”

“I’m not from around here.”

“Then you haven’t been employed by the Sionis family for long?”

Him being employed by them was probably just a guess, though a very educated one. There were few, if really no other, reasons as to why he would have been driving Roman around otherwise. The instinct to be protective was immediate though. He hadn’t been able to tell what Vicki wanted before, only that it had infuriated Roman. Victor was suspicious, but he didn’t immediately push her away. If he could get some information while giving very little, that would be perfect.

To be fair, his answer about not being from Gotham had again probably answered the question about his length of employment. However, instead of clarifying, he simply said, “Did you follow him here?”

“I’m actually working on a separate story. I’m pretty sure this location also doubles as a drug front for Roland Desmond. He mainly works out of Blüdhaven, but rumor has it he’s trying to stake some territory in—”

“Do I look like I care?”

Vicki didn’t look particularly put off by the interruption. She shrugged her shoulders and simply said, “Straight to the point. I can at least appreciate it. No, I wasn’t following him. I wasn’t even planning on saying anything when I spotted him. Clearly, he has other things on his mind right now.”

Victor glanced over again. That feeling in his stomach curled again. Clearly.

“But then I thought I saw you and figured I might as well try to pass some things along.”

He focused back on her. “Unless Roman gives an explicit command, I’m not telling you anything.”

“I don’t expect you to. I want you to talk to him for me.”

“What? The last interview not go so well?” Victor sarcastically said. “And now you want me to convince him to sit down with you and do a more official one?” It was hard not to laugh at that idea.

“It’s not what you think. I’m not interested in Roman.”

“How could you not be interested in Roman?”

Her brow furrowed as she gave him a quick once over. To be fair, Victor had acted instinctively and spoken pretty damn harshly. He hadn’t meant to sound so possessive, but then feeling possessive and protective over another person was still a very new thing for Victor. He’d have to learn how to control that better so it didn’t just come out automatically. He downed the remnants of his drink, left it on the bar, and crossed his arms. She waited like she expected him to defend the comment, but he just stared back.

She shrugged again. “I’m being serious with you. It’s not Roman I care about. The story I’m after involves Bruce Wayne.”

Wayne, another big name in Gotham. So Bruce was his first name. The most Victor knew about him was that the guy’s business was everywhere, apparently his parents had been killed during the riots in the 70s thanks to that guy at Arkham, and Victor remembered seeing ads involving the Wayne company on TV from time to time. Roman hadn’t mentioned the name yet.

“Why do you need to talk to Roman then?”

“They’re friends.”

Victor gave her a skeptical look. He didn’t know enough to confirm or deny that statement. “So? Why not go to Wayne?”

“I have. I want another side of things, and they knew each other as children.”

“Well, if you’re telling the truth, at least I know why he got so god damn upset last time.”

“And why is that?”

“Because the story isn’t about him.” Roman was self-centered enough that he’d probably prefer a bad story about himself rather than being a stepping stone to get to someone else.

“How long have you known him?”

“A few days.”

“Really? I think your take on him is very accurate for someone who hasn’t known him very long.”

“We clicked.”

She chuckled at that. She looked him up and down again. “You clicked.” She didn’t exactly sound disbelieving. What did she see? As a journalist, did she see more than most? How was she interpreting it? She started talking again. “Just please, talk to him for me. I haven’t been able to get him to listen for more than five minutes.”

“And why should I help you?”

She shrugged. “I’d say money, but I know I sure as shit can’t match anything that a Sionis would pay. Just know the story I’m after is one worth breaking. Depending on what Roman has to say on it, he might even be more involved in it than he first thought. Here’s my card. Just talk to him. Please.”

The small piece of paper was pushed into Victor’s hands.

“Thank you for listening to me…”

“Zsasz.”

“Well thanks. And please, at least think on it.” She stepped away and just like that, she was gone.

Victor looked the card over before glancing up, eyes quickly finding Roman again. He thought about it for a second before pocketing the card. Obviously, bringing it up tonight wouldn’t do any good. However, even if Victor didn’t speak on Vicki’s behalf, he had at least learned some new information from her. Roman Sionis and Bruce Wayne had known each other as children and were apparently friends. He could hopefully use that to learn more about Roman, and perhaps the info was connected to other things that Victor just didn’t know yet.

Whether or not he told Roman about Vicki’s plea was another thing, but it could all wait.

Instead, he simply continued to focus the majority of his attention on Roman again, eyes narrowing any time he excessively touched the woman he was still with or she moved her hands over him. Victor could feel himself growing frustrated. He’d of course felt that emotion before, but never quite like this.

It wasn’t like the woman was a threat. Victor could still see Roman just fine. He was doing his job. The woman wasn’t in his way in any sense of the word and it wasn’t like something about her had set off Victor’s other wants. He could have killed her easily, but she wasn’t drawing him towards her with an overwhelming need to kill her like he might when seeing someone that really struck his fancy. Yet despite all that, he was still extremely frustrated with her.

Apparently, Victor had another new feeling he’d have to look at later and possibly learn how to control. He just hoped Roman wouldn’t bring the woman back over. He wasn’t sure what his instinct would be if she was within arm’s reach.

Thankfully though, after another sizable amount of time passed, Roman left her where she was, practically passing her drunken ass onto some stranger as he made his way back to Victor. Roman ordered another drink and then heavily leaned against the bar and Victor.

“What? Didn’t want to join me?” Roman loudly said over the music.

To be honest, Victor hadn’t realized that was option, though he just said, “I don’t dance.”

“Well next time you do. It’s more fun that way.” The bartender then slid Roman’s drink over. He drank it without needing to pause for air, and then fully leaned against Victor.

It was almost nice, except all Victor could think about was just how much that woman had been over Roman, just how much she’d touched.

His frustration grew.

“Come on. It’s time to drive me home.”

Roman managed to walk pretty well despite how much alcohol had to be in his system. He mostly led the way, only occasionally grabbing onto Victor as he spun around a person or group in the way. Once outside, Victor spotted the security detail as usual and they headed straight to the car. Roman clambered in and leaned his seat back. Victor got in on the other side.

“Hmm, pick me up at one o’clock today,” mumbled Roman. “I won’t be up by ten.”

“You got it.”

Victor drove off. While still in areas that were alive at night, the traffic was pretty bad. Victor was stopped at a light when he noted how Roman had dozed off. Victor leaned over. He very lightly traced an invisible line across Roman’s throat. The light turned green.

The car slowly rolled forward with the rest of the traffic.

After out of the nightlife areas of Gotham, the traffic became a lot easier. Victor sped a little and Roman woke up again, beginning to mumble about plans for tomorrow, though in a mostly incoherent way that Victor couldn’t follow.

Once at the estate, Victor was a little surprised the gates opened. Some type of permanent security detail at the estate then, waiting for Roman to come home at any time of the night? Once at the front doors, Victor expected he would have to help Roman out. However, Roman was out of the car and on his feet before Victor could even unbuckle. Roman swayed a little but remained standing.

“One o’clock. Remember that. Not ten. One.”

Victor nodded as Roman managed up the stairs and—

The butler opened the door in sleep wear.

Shit, he stayed on the grounds? Then either a security detail had woken him or maybe there was some kind of alarm for whenever someone arrived at the door that he was warned for. Either way, killing him would be made more difficult considering he didn’t have his own home to stay in.

Victor would just have to figure it out later. For the moment, it was too hard to completely concentrate on future plans. He was still too frustrated.

When he drove back to Gotham, with Roman not next to him to distract him, the frustration grew. Flashes of that woman near Roman, on Roman, dancing with Roman, kissing Roman—

The frustration just kept growing. He needed some kind of release. He needed it fucking now.

He wasn’t sure what to do though and so just drove to O’Malley’s. Maybe a drink would help.

Victor parked off to the side. He walked in with a huff, so fucking frustrated and not fully understanding why—

She moved up from where she was bent over a table.

Suddenly, Victor knew exactly how he would vent his frustration.

She was young. Really young actually. Possibly just a teenager. Her clothes suggested she was homeless, but Victor didn’t really focus on all that. He was more focused on just how he was going to finally let his frustration free. He stepped forward.

“Victor!”

He turned and saw Alice leaning against the bar. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him. Did she see it in his walk? His stance? Or simply his eyes? It didn’t really matter. What mattered was that she could tell what was about to happen as she and everyone else in that bar stared at him, including the girl.

Why did Alice care? Because she wanted to be a good person? At least in this instance? Victor wasn’t sure, but he still didn’t care. He turned away and took another few steps towards the kid.

“Run! Fucking run!”

No one came to her aid as the girl listened to Alice. She scrambled around the table she’d been at, her confusion over the situation causing her to stumble and bump into all manner of things. All the other patrons quickly sat down or stepped out of the way as Victor chased her around the bar. Alice desperately grabbed the girl and forced her towards a doorway.

“The back door is through there! Just go!” The girl ran as Alice tried to step in Victor’s way. “Please Victor! Don’t fucking—”

But he just knocked Alice aside. Nothing was going to stop him from finally letting out that pent up frustration.

Right as the girl got out the door, Victor collided with her backside. She screamed as her body hit the ground, the door behind them hitting the wall before swinging closed from the force. Her limbs moved in every possible direction, kicking, punching, trying to scratch. Oh, she was certainly a fighter. She got Victor in the chin. She scrambled upwards, tried to push her legs as fast as she could—

But Victor moved faster.

He grabbed her again and used the forward momentum to spin her over and slam her body against the alley wall. She started screaming again. Victor grabbed her hair, pulling hard enough to strain her scalp. He pulled his arm back again along with her head. He smashed it against the brick with a sickening thud. Blood was left on the wall and streaming down half her face. Her mouth opened, but she didn’t scream again. Instead, she wailed, her voice high-pitched and broken and really giving away just how young she was. It sent a shiver of pleasure through him.

“Please! P-please m-mister. P-please!”

Victor knocked her head against the wall again. He could hear the slight crack of her skull. Her left eye was bulging out now as her right eye streamed tears. Her heart was beating like a freight train on tracks. The blood continued to flow as Victor forced her to the ground. She struggled a little, but soon Victor’s weight was on her and keeping her from going anywhere. He sat just low enough on her waist that she couldn’t lift her legs and grabbed her wrists that came up to try and strike him again. He shoved them against the ground and stayed there for just a second as her high-pitched voice begged again and again.

He couldn’t help the low moan that escaped his lips as she continued to struggle and cry, her pulse pounding away. Victor let go with one hand and grabbed her head, slamming it back against the ground. It stunned her enough that she didn’t struggle when Victor let go of her other hand. He pulled out a knife from inside his coat. He pressed it against her throat, a red line already forming.

“W-why?”

Victor didn’t bother answering her as he pressed a little deeper and sliced.

It wasn’t enough to kill her right away. Instead, she started to gurgle. She tried to scream again, but it was too late. Victor lowered his body so he was practically lying on her. Her blood spurted and bubbled up from the pressure and her occasional attempts at saying anything. He could feel it as the life completely drained from her, right down to the final second.

Victor shuddered. Ah, there was the fucking release he’d been looking for.

He pushed himself off her and wiped the knife on his clothes before putting it away. He pulled out a different one and carefully dragged the blade down his forehead. Then he walked back into the bar.

Inside, everyone avoided his gaze. Everyone except for Alice who stood by the bar, tears in her eyes as she watched Victor’s bloodstained form come in and sit down. He waited and raised an eyebrow. When Alice didn’t move, he shrugged and leaned over the bar. He grabbed a beer for himself and drank from it. He felt so much better already.

Alice said something that had Victor dragging his attention back to her.

“Hmm?”

“She was just a homeless kid, seeing if she could ask around for some change. Some fucking change,” she hissed.

“Are you really going to shed a tear over this? If anything, it’s your fault,” laughed Victor. “You shouldn’t have let her in. Underaged and all that.”

“I hate you. I wish you’d never come to Gotham. I-I wish Strange would just let me—”

“Ah, you went crying to Strange? Fucking serious Alice? Well, what does the old fart want? Hmm?”

She looked just as disgusted. She ducked her head and whispered, “He said to put the body downstairs. He’d be able to use it later.”

“See! And I even helped out Strange without meaning to. If anything, you should be thanking me,” Victor replied. He downed the rest of the beer and got up again. “You have no idea how much I needed that. See you later Alice.”

She let out a half-strangled scream and threw a glass at Victor’s head. He dodged it as he headed out the back again. He picked up the body and took it back down to Strange’s lab. When Victor got back out, it had begun to rain. Perfect, that would wash any remaining blood away.

He went back to the car, briefly noting that any bloodstains would definitely need to be cleaned away with the costs definitely coming out of one of his payments. It was all worth it though.

It was almost four in the morning by the time Victor got home. He set an alarm first so that he wouldn’t be late picking up Roman later. Then he quickly took care of his bloodstained clothes and double checked the new tally. It would look good, going from his hairline and connecting with another scar. Nice, he hadn’t even meant to do that but he liked how it looked. A good reminder of an extremely stress relieving time.

Victor covered it with a bandage so he wouldn’t stain his own sheets and then finally fell asleep in blissful exhaustion.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Hope you enjoy and thank you as always for all the wonderful comments and kudos!

When Victor picked up Roman at one o’clock, Roman did a double take. He leaned over and pushed his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose. Somehow he looked immaculate despite the long night.

“Now I would have said about five fucking minutes ago that I remembered everything from before, but I’m beginning to second guess myself.”

Victor laughed. “It happened after.”

“After, hmm? Going clubbing not exciting enough for you? You should have drank more.”

“I still had to drive.”

“So? I’ll fucking call someone else to drive us next time. You should be able to enjoy yourself.”

“Even with the supposed threat?”

Roman let out a long groan. “You’re still taking that seriously?”

“Well you didn’t tell me not to.”

Roman rolled his eyes but didn’t tell Victor off. Either his mind was moving too quickly to think on that, or there was at least some small acknowledgement that he might have pissed off a mob bosses’ daughter bad enough to have hitmen be sent after him. Either way, he just leaned over and touched the area around the open wound. Victor had to hold back the urge to shiver.

“It’ll at least be scabbed before the event,” murmured Roman.

When he leaned back, Victor started to go down the drive and said, “Sorry. Didn’t think about that.” Wait, had he really just apologized? For a kill? He’d never fucking apologized for a kill! Christ, what was Roman doing to him? And he couldn’t even be irritated with himself, enjoying the change and Roman’s presence all too much.

“Oh, no need to apologize. After all, I said I wouldn’t make you be something you’re not. I’m perfectly fine with you looking like a monster. You’re just going to be a well-dressed one. Which brings us to our first address—”

“Roman, please—”

“I like that. You should say it more often,” grinned Roman.

Victor resisted the urge to whine. He didn’t even feel irritated despite how anyone else saying such a thing would have enraged Victor. If anything, he just felt pleased that Roman was clearly pleased.

“Anyways, we’re going here and you’ll fucking deal with it. Got it?”

Victor nodded as Roman put in the directions for the GPS for him. Even though he could have just told Victor himself, it was clear he wanted to focus on other things. He leaned over again, glancing just over the top of his sunglasses in a way that did insane things to Victor’s insides.

“So tell me, what was she like? Or he. No judging here.” A wide smile. A suggestive glint in his eyes. Roman did realize Victor was supposed to be focusing on the road and not driving them into the back of a semi, right?

“She was quite a fighter,” Victor replied. Just thinking about it allowed a memory of the released he’d felt in the moment to come over him again.

“Where did you find her?”

“I went to a bar. Wasn’t sure what I was looking for at first, but I knew when I found her.”

Roman made a face. “Probably a shitty little bar. What? The clubs not good enough?”

“The clubs were nice,” Victor said with a slight chuckle. “But O’Malley’s is near my apartment and it was basically my first stop in Gotham. Where I first got contracts, was connected with Strange and others. It’s nostalgic.”

“Hmm, that is making me realize how much more you haven’t told me yet involving your past. But I still don’t want to do too much all at once. Focus on the woman right now. I want to know more.”

“Well she was a girl really. Thought she was eighteen. When she really started screaming, it made me think she was closer to sixteen.”

“You killed a child?” Roman sounded more amazed than shocked or disgusted. It made Victor smile.

“Why not? She was there for the taking and I just couldn’t say no.”

“No one is off limits for you. Are they?”

“You’re off limits.”

“Don’t tell me you have some weird moral code about not betraying your employers. That’s fucking boring.”

“No, I’ve killed employers before. I’ve killed the mark of a contract and the person who gave the contract within the same hour.”

“What? Then is there some rule I’m missing?”

“No rule. Just you.” The second part came out soft as a whisper. “You’d be a waste dead.”

“You don’t say that too many people, do you?”

“No.”

“Another honor then. And one that’s all mine,” Roman said with a wide grin. “Go on. Tell me more about her.”

And Victor did. He gave every detail that came to mind, not just of the kid but of everything around him. The pounding of his own pulse, the stench of the alley, her fucking crying. He filled the story up with so much imagery that he still wasn’t done when the GPS announced they’d arrived at their destination. Victor didn’t mind though. Being in public just gave him a reason to walk closer to Roman. He whispered the words in his ear, almost close enough to rest his chin on Roman’s shoulder as he finished the horrid tale.

When it was done, Roman said, “I wish I’d been there to see it.”

“One day,” murmured Victor. “I’d even like to watch you work.”

“Watch me? Watch me kill? You’re the master of the knives,” Roman said with a flippant wave.

“There’s still value in a novice’s take. That’s what you said,” whispered Victor.

“So I did.”

And oh god could Victor see it. The offer was causing Roman’s thoughts to spin. Killing another human being, especially in cold blood, just for fun, it turned so many people off. But Roman wasn’t. He wasn’t even indifferent. A fire lighted up inside him. The darkness was even clearer now behind his eyes at Victor’s offer. Victor couldn’t wait for Roman to take it, and he would eventually. Whether by circumstantial events or because Victor purposefully put it all in front of Roman, it didn’t matter. Victor just wanted to make sure he was there when it happened.

Sadly though, with the story done and no chance of watching Roman kill someone in the store, the conversation moved to topics less important to Victor.

“Now, let’s expand your wardrobe,” Roman said.

“I’d really rather not.”

“This won’t be as painful as you’re making it out to be,” Roman said with a role of his eyes. “Just shut up and follow me.”

Victor did. If Roman wanted him quiet, then Victor could do quiet. Again, something that should have irritated him didn’t as he followed Roman around and he was eventually shoved into a changing room. He was like some doll on display, Roman’s thing to play with and test out and he was ok with that.

To be fair, the clothes weren’t too bad. They felt nice-which if they hadn’t then really, why the fuck would anyone pay hundreds of dollars for them? The choices were also somewhat loose, not nearly as formfitting as Roman went with. Maybe that had been done on purpose. Perhaps Roman had been thinking of Victor’s knives, or him needing his flexibility whether to protect Roman or simply kill someone because he felt that need. How sweet.

And most of the clothes that Roman picked out were casual enough. The designs on the shirts were a bit more complicated than a plain white t-shirt, but Victor didn’t really care about that. He’d never had a sense of fashion. He was fine with whatever Roman picked, especially since he was putting into consideration Victor’s knives and needs.

However, Roman wasn’t happy with anything at the first store. When they left, Victor was surprised by how the sun was dipping down again. Time had really flown. Victor hadn’t been bored once simply because he’d been with Roman. It was truly kind of amazing.

“At least I know what I want you in now. Come on, next store.”

They went to three more before it hit five. Roman managed to finally decide on at least one full outfit. However, he said, “That will work for the event, but we’ll need to do this again sometime soon.”

“Again?”

“We’ve already decided this is long term. Haven’t we? And now that I know you can listen well enough to deal with a costume change, I am definitely filling out your wardrobe. Don’t worry though, I’d say we’d only have to do this once, maybe twice more. I know your sizes and by then, I’ll know what you look good in.”

Well if that was what Roman wanted, Victor could only follow along. They made it back to the car and Victor put the bag in the back. “Where to now?”

Roman glanced at the clock again. He let out a tired groan. “Gotham General again.”

Thinking it was about his teeth, Victor said, “I didn’t think that was until Monday.”

“It still is. I have an appointment with Strange.”

“Then you don’t always meet at Arkham?”

“Only if my parents want me committed for a few days.”

Victor wondered how often that was. When did it start? Was it ok to start asking questions now, or should he wait? It didn’t look like he’d have to wait long though as Roman rambled on his own.

“They have to know it doesn’t help. That none of it does! It’s their expensive way of not dealing with me for a weekend, or even a week. They know it’s not a fucking solution! And yet they’re still stupid enough to think I’m on medication! I mean, really? Dr. Strange isn’t fucking stupid. He knows I refuse to take anything. And he doesn’t seem to give two shits either way for whatever reason, but my parents honestly think I follow everything I’m told and then the moment their perfect bubble breaks, it’s off to Arkham again! Christ! I fucking hate them!”

Roman hit the dash hard and looked out the window, body coiled with held back energy.

Victor didn’t suggest killing his parents only because they’d already had that conversation. Also, he was pretty sure it would have gone the same way too. At least for right now, Roman couldn’t see an out from under his parents. And as for Strange, well Victor had already suspected he saw everyone as lab rats. He probably saw viewing Roman not on medication, moods and actions and whims not restricted by anything, a perfect study session.

That again caused Victor to feel protective. He wanted to just tell Roman to stop going. He would never have to see Strange again. However, such actions would probably just lead Strange to telling the parents so he could get his little lab rat back, and his parents would just send him to Arkham again for an extended stay. Until Roman was out from under his parents’ control, Victor couldn’t do anything. It was frustrating, but Victor would put up with it for now.

Eventually, Roman would manage to drag himself out from under them, and Victor would be waiting there with a hand to pull him up.

Roman continued to rant even as they parked. Victor wasn’t surprised that Roman told him to stay in the car, though it did cause a whine to escape Victor’s throat as Roman slammed the door shut. Victor briefly thought about following, but no. Not here.

It did remind him that he needed to check on how that information was coming along though. He would do that later tonight. For the moment, he just waited.

Thankfully, the appointment didn’t take long and Roman was back at Victor’s side.

Roman pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fucking useless as usual.” He shook his head. “Get us something to eat.”

“I really only know the…three place you’ve brought me.”

“I said get us something. Not go to a god damn restaurant! I don’t want to fucking deal with people right now,” growled Roman.

“You’ll be disappointed with what I choose.”

“Well obviously,” grumbled Roman. “Just follow the fucking order.”

Victor shrugged. If that was what Roman wanted for the moment, then sure. Maybe he just didn’t want to deal with all the fakes. Maybe he knew that if around those people he would make a scene with a waiter or a fellow customer, an extremely violent scene that would undoubtably lead him back to Arkham by order of his parents.

Though Victor wished to see Roman act violently again, to see that rage come forth, he didn’t want him taken away even for a short amount of time. One day already felt like too much. How could he deal with a weekend? Three days or four?

Victor drove away from the streets he’d often gone down with Roman. At least for the moment, Roman didn’t argue or make a comment. His thoughts stayed in his head, even as Victor could tell just how irritated he still was. Roman didn’t even say anything upon pulling through a drive-thru and then driving off to another section of Gotham.

There was a spot where Victor had frequented, especially during his time with Strange. It was full of abandoned warehouses and homeless towns. He’d killed some, dismembered many more in the area.

When he finally stopped, Roman gave him a disgusted look. “Really?”

“Just trust me.”

“With what? This place is disgusting. I feel like I’ve walked into some post-apocalyptic nightmare.”

“Welcome to Gotham.”

Roman rolled his eyes but followed all the same. The irritation was going down and he was beginning to look more intrigued at least. Night was almost upon them with only the bare rays of the sun peeking out across the horizons. Roman folded his sunglasses onto his shirt’s collar as Victor walked towards the chained door.

“We’re breaking and entering?”

“Just entering,” replied Victor. He easily moved the mass of chains aside as it became clear they’d been previously cut. “But I have broken in before.”

Roman chuckled at that. He followed closely as Victor led him into the empty building. The remaining twilight just barely shined through some broken windows, giving just enough lighting to still see. Victor stopped at a collection of old cargo. He’d checked them before. All empty except for the occasional rusted instrument that time had forgotten. He hopped up onto it. Roman gave him a disbelieving look.

“You can stand if you like,” laughed Victor. He pulled the bag into his lap, took out a burger wrapped in grease, and held it out.

“Remind me to never let you choose what to eat ever again.”

“I’ll make a note of it.”

Admittedly, Victor was surprised when Roman actually took it. He didn’t sit down though, just leaned against the crates near Victor. Roman looked around. He might have been honestly curious. Or he might have been delaying biting into the burger. He could end up just throwing it over his shoulder. Victor didn’t really care. He immediately started eating his own since he’d missed lunch.

“So, you’ve been here before…I can guess why.”

It was as good of a conversation starter as any. Victor nodded.

“How do you find these places?”

Victor shrugged. “Just good at it I guess. Depends on the city obviously. What sections work well, have few precincts, dirty cops, all that shit. Where do the homeless congregate? I’ve scared a few groups away before, but sometimes time is important. Privacy. Just depends.”

“When was your first kill?”

“About…eleven years ago.”

“So you were thirteen then?”

“Twelve. Birthday was right around the corner.”

“Was it on purpose?”

“No. At the time, was just a kid trying to survive.”

“Did the scars come then, or later?”

“Technically later, but I did make a mark for him.” Victor could see Roman’s curiosity. He decided to show him. He took another large bite and then set his food to the side. He started to kick his shoes off.

“Victor, I realize you’re a degenerate, but absolutely not.”

“Just eat your food,” he laughed. The insinuation still warmed his insides in such a pleasant yet strange way as he shifted around. Roman actually took a bite. Victor was a bit surprised but pleased he was at least eating. Victor undid his pants and pulled them just low enough to show his thighs. Roman’s eyes immediately roamed over the newly revealed scars, counting them and clearly trying to figure out the number he saw.

“You’re seeing seventeen right now.”

Roman whispered the number to himself. He was probably adding on the scars he’d seen on Victor’s face and collarbone. He’d have to take that number and double it to even get close.

Victor pushed his skin a bit to show off a particular scar. It was right in the middle of his inner right thigh. It was still clear, but the paleness of it showed how much older it was compared to all the other ones. It also wasn’t nearly as smooth.

“This was the first one,” Victor explained.

“How long was it made after the kill?”

“Almost a year.”

“Could you wait that long now?”

“No,” Victor honestly said. He would probably go insane if he was forced into such a situation. The ritual was too set in stone, too much a part of him now. “Trust me, I still went through my own pains in that time. I didn’t know how to deal with it. It was all I could think about. At that age, it felt like a lifetime, trying to process every sensation, the memory. Now I don’t have to obsess over keeping the memory in my head though. I can look at it right here, whenever I want to.”

Roman moved closer. His free hand moved over the area. Victor shivered at how gently Roman touched him.

“Was there a reason for this spot?” asked Roman.

“Usually there isn’t. If it fits, it fits. In this case though, it was just because it was less likely to be seen. Before I finally struck out on my own, most of my marks ended up on my upper thighs. It was easier to hide. And when there were fewer, having them here allowed for an easy enough lie to tell others. To explain away.”

Roman nodded in understanding. He removed his hand and continued to eat.

Victor smoothly hopped down to pull his pants back up before getting back on the empty cargo. He would put his shoes on later. For the moment, he just sat cross-legged and quickly started to down the rest of his food. Roman ate slower, but he was eating it.

“Do you have any marks from here?”

“You mean like a kill in this specific warehouse?”

Roman nodded. “Or this area.”

Victor finished his food, balling up the wrapper and tossing it behind him. He pulled up his shirt. “This little one here. Under my ribs?”

“That one or that one?”

Victor tapped the correct one. “Everything else was just dismemberment for Strange. Well, except one. I got a contract to dispose of another body, but that was it. Not kill her.”

“And no marks for them?”

“If I don’t kill them, then no. It would be like taking credit for work that isn’t mine.”

“We couldn’t have that. Now could we?” murmured Roman with a wicked grin. He finished his burger and tossed the wrapper too. “If I get food poisoning, I’m taking one of your fingers.”

“Take my left pinky. I can work around that.”

“Deal.”

The best part was that Victor could tell Roman wasn’t joking.

By now, the light of the sun was almost gone. Victor’s eyes had adjusted so he could still see just fine, but it was probably best to go now before it got any darker. Victor moved off the cargo and slipped his shoes back on. He led the way back out of the warehouse only to see a man trying and failing to steal the car.

Roman let out a bemused snort. “Way to fit inside a stereotype.”

The man scrambled upon seeing the car wasn’t as abandoned as he’d probably thought. Victor swiftly moved around and backed the man against a wall.

Roman whistled. “You are fast.”

The compliment made Victor smile. A knife was out before the man could mumble out some half assed excuse. Victor pressed the flat of the blade to the man’s lips. “Shh, shh. Lying won’t get you anywhere right now.”

It wasn’t like Victor actually cared about the car. Roman or his parents would have easily gotten another anyways. The man also wasn’t giving off any signals like he was someone Victor just couldn’t allow to get away. However, there was an opportunity in front of him. He could finally kill someone in front of Roman. Not tell him the details but let him see it for himself, make his own memories with him. Victor couldn’t possibly let that go.

He dragged the blade down the man’s shaking lips. The point nicked him before Victor slowly began to press the knife into the center of his throat just on the blade’s curve—

“Don’t kill him.”

Victor startled at that. His brow furrowed in confusion and he slightly turned his head to catch Roman in his peripherals. Roman didn’t look upset though, scared. If anything, his eyes told Victor he was planning something, carefully thinking through the ideas as he waited for Victor to follow his command.

Though Victor hadn’t initially felt the draw to kill the man, once he had decided to, he shouldn’t have been forced to stop. He technically didn’t have to. They were just words. He could just shove his knife straight through the man’s throat, hit the brick behind him and watch him bleed out. Oh, it would be so easy and so rewarding to watch that blood spill forth—

“Victor, I said no.”

The voice so calm, so cool. Though Victor couldn’t fight the whine from worming its way out of his throat, he was shocked at how easy it was to lower his blade.

Roman let out a long yawn. “Cut some fingers off if that will make you feel better. But you still aren’t allowed to kill him.”

“Y-yeah don’t k-kill—”

Honestly, Victor was so confused by his own actions and the ease of listening to Roman, he might have just let the man walk away. However, that begging sent off a different kind of signal and in an instant, Victor was forcing the man’s hand open and cutting off two digits.

The man fell to his knees, screaming as Victor casually wiped the knife against his clothes and put it away. Roman walked over to the car and leaned against the hood. Victor moved to meet him as the man scrambled away from behind him, still yelling.

“Why didn’t you want me to kill him?”

“Ah, so accusatory,” grinned Roman. “What? Afraid I’m all talk and no bite?”

“No. I just…I don’t understand why I couldn’t.”

“You’ve already told me so many wonderful stories. Do you really think I want our first time to be by an abandoned building with a drunken, old car thief? That’s hardly a special moment.”

Special? He wanted it to be special? He thought of it like a first moment?

Roman moved and Victor found himself backed up against the hood of the car. Roman used his height to loom over him, keep him there. Victor had fought way bigger men, yet now the fight left him as he felt all the air leave his lungs too.

“Besides, it also proved an incredibly educational moment.”

Victor let out a strained, questioning noise from the back of his throat.

Roman leaned in close, his lips right by Victor’s ear, their bodies pressed together. “It told me you know how to listen.” And suddenly Roman was stepping away and Victor had to desperately fight the urge to pull him back. “Now come on. Time to take me back to the estate.”

Victor nodded. He pushed himself off the car, arms shaking from want as he managed to get in on the driver’s side. He couldn’t speak. So many ideas were already running through his head. There was a voice too, berating him for not taking the kill. No one told him what to do! Alice had tried to do that the night before and Victor had simply pushed her aside to get to his goal. He shouldn’t have listened. If he wanted to kill someone, he should just do it. Roman shouldn’t be able to tell him around like that!

And yet, there was another, much louder voice yelling in his head. Maybe this was what he’d been waiting for. He could have continued on his own, but having someone worthy of following, who knew how to have fun and seemed to understand and take joy in Victor’s need was worth giving up a bit of agency. Maybe this was just perfect.

Victor was so wrapped up in his head that it was Roman who actually broke the silence.

He was looking outside, watching the cars pass them as he murmured, “It was a disgusting little place. But I can’t lie. Being away from all the bullshit was nice. I could even pretend Strange and his appointments didn’t exist. My parents too.”

If this was what Roman needed, Victor would follow through. He didn’t say it yet because he didn’t have a plan fully in place. Neither did he want to break the moment by starting an argument. But if helping Roman to break away would help him, then Victor would do it. If that included killing the parents, fine. Strange could be trickier, but Victor decided he would kill him to, not just for Roman but his own satisfaction. But he would do it all for Roman.

For the moment, all Victor said was, “Maybe we could do it again sometime. But with a more appealing third party if that’s the kind of fun you’re looking for.”

“I like the sound of that.”

The thought warmed Victor from the inside out. That feeling didn’t falter either, even after he dropped Roman off and was already home himself.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always! I hope you enjoy <3

Over the next few days, Victor followed Roman. He did all that he was asked and enjoyed the wicked conversations that popped up between them. Sometimes they were even whispered in a crowded room and Victor cherished the shocked and horrified looks when someone overheard a word or two.

Then the time finally came where his teeth were going to be fixed.

When asked, Victor had suggested gold because why the fuck not. Roman had thought about it for a second, asking first if it was a viable option and would hold up as well as more common materials. When he was told gold would work just fine-price obviously not being an issue-he had agreed. “You’ll look positively hideous. I love it.”

The first thing Victor had done with his new teeth was carefully run his tongue over them.

Not having to worry about stabbing himself in the gums during every bite was going to be amazing.

After that doctor’s visit along with Roman’s other errands, Victor had dropped Roman off. Then Victor had gone back to O’Malley’s for the first time since killing the kid.

People avoided making eye contact more than normal and one guy abruptly apologized when he was in Victor’s way, even without them both bumping into each other. It seemed his reputation really was coming along. The fear that everyone was feeling, Victor hoped that one day he’d be able to walk into any place in Gotham and the reaction would be instantaneous. He enjoyed what he could get at the moment though and sat down at the bar. It didn’t take long before Alice came to stand in front of him. Her anger from before was gone, the tears and utter distress. She mostly looked resigned. She was tired but knew there was nothing she could do about it.

That understanding could be felt in her words and tone of voice too. “You’re never going to leave me alone. Are you?”

“Well obviously not.”

She shook her head before setting down Victor’s beer of choice.

He left her alone for a bit. He was still basking in the newfound terror that everyone clearly felt around him. When she came back around though, Victor asked, “So do you know Strange’s schedule?”

“I’m not his fucking secretary.”

“I know. But do you have an idea? Like how much time he spends here and in his other labs versus Gotham General? The Asylum or Black Gate?”

Alice leaned in close, the conversation just going between them. “No, and I wouldn’t tell you if I did.”

He shrugged.

Her eyes wildly looked over him. “If you’re trying something against Strange, don’t. I told you not to fuck up your current job.”

“I’m not. Was just curious. Roman visited him at the hospital. I didn’t realize he worked there too.”

She didn’t immediately back up. She continued to stare at him, probably searching for the truth. When she seemed satisfied, her shoulders relaxed. Though just a little bit.

“Ok. But if you ever want to know more about Strange, get your information elsewhere. Or ask him yourself. I’m not stupid enough to say anything, not that I know much more than you really.”

“I guessed as much,” laughed Victor. “Just asking.”

She gave him a disbelieving look before slowly moving to a customer waving an empty bottle.

To be fair, she was smart. Even though he was being honest in the moment, he could tell that she knew he wouldn’t have asked if he was really leaving everything at that. For the moment, Strange was still off limits. There were too many unknowns and Strange still held a lot of power. Ideally, his remaining people wouldn’t have been able to run Victor out with Roman Sionis backing him, but it was hard to say for sure. Victor would just have to think in simple, non-murderous terms for the moment. But if there wasn’t a simpler way to break Strange’s oversight on Roman, Victor might just have to kill him. That day would have to wait for the foreseeable future though.

After finishing his beer and leaving O’Malley’s, Victor collected his information about Roman’s position at Janus Corp before going home. He also decided to kill two birds with one stone and went ahead and paid to get information on the butler.

He was still planning to kill him after all.

Victor briefly looked over the information, but he would primarily work through it on Wednesday. The event that Roman was going to was set for Thursday night and the day before would really give Victor a chance to explore the information he had obtained. Hopefully, it would be useful, and he would be able to figure out the best way to stay with Roman. Even on the one day he wasn’t allowed to.

Wednesday came and Victor got up early to take the transit downtown. He found a new spot and combed through what he’d been given. All of it was promising. An office on one of the high floors. A good window. Documentation that proved Roman was forced to stay in there for the majority of the day.

Good. Victor knew where he would be. But how to get to him?

The information about their security systems and the layout of the building was above Victor’s expertise. His face was too recognizable as well. Besides, where would he have gone? Stood outside Roman’s door? That hardly worked in his favor. No, what was next to the building? It would have to be on the side that Roman’s office was. So where…

After Victor caught his first glimpse of Roman entering Janus Corp with the same man as before, he then spent the rest of the day focusing on the building that faced Roman’s office. It looked to have less security than Janus Corp. The upper floors were also under construction which could prove extremely useful. He just had to get up there.

He made sure to be more careful than he normally would. This wasn’t some empty house in the middle of the day. It was a business and his appearance definitely didn’t fit with the people of the area. No way would he be able to talk his way out of it and if caught once, then his plan was done for.

Being so careful and methodical meant the majority of the day was spent without a single glimpse of Roman, but it paid off in the end.

A way up to the floors under construction was successfully found and once there, Victor examined everything he could. From papers being left around and memos stuck to walls, he got a good idea of when he could freely be up here with the smallest chance of encountering anyone else.

Because of how the shadows fell, going in the morning could be struck off the possible times too. The shine wouldn’t have allowed Victor to see in anyways.

But in the afternoon? He could see just fine. Curled up on the side of a blank pillar and right next to an open section that would eventually house a window, he could see. With the excellent phone, it wasn’t difficult to zoom in and just sit there. He could hear the sound of the city below him, but the noise was drowned out as he imagined what Roman sounded like. He thought about what he could be saying, how he might just be breathing in that moment by looking at his shoulders and his smooth or furrowed brow.

It was exactly what Victor needed when he was supposed to be forced from Roman’s side. Hopefully much more could be learned from the small intrusion too, though only time could tell.

And then the day of the event was upon them.

It was supposed to happen in the afternoon but Roman had told him to get dressed properly anyways. Victor wasn’t exactly sure if he was supposed to take care of the clothes in some way. He was pretty sure they had wrinkles now which Roman would probably complain about. Oh well. It wasn’t like Victor owned an iron anyways.

In getting dressed though and throwing some clothes off to the side to clean later, he did find the business card that the journalist had given him. He’d almost forgotten about it.

Victor pulled up the memories of the conversations. He kept them in mind when he was finally ready and heading off to pick up Roman. The first stop of the day was another art related errand. Victor enjoyed it more than any clothes shopping or business venture, especially since Roman always managed to find the darkest of paintings or sculptures.

Since walking around had him in a good mood though, Victor eventually said, “Vicki Vale wants another interview with you. Or I suppose a proper interview.”

“How the fuck did she get to you? How does she even know about you?” snapped Roman, his eyes finally taken off the art for a minute.

“On my first day dropping you off, her car was parked in front of the gate. And she found me at one of those clubs we went to a few days ago.”

Roman’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell did she want?”

“To talk about Bruce Wayne.”

“How many times do I have to say, I don’t give a fuck about Bruce fucking Wayne!” The way Roman yelled it had all eyes turning towards them for a second before quickly looking away again. It was hard to tell if it was Victor’s presence that scared them off, the fact that they recognized Roman, or both.

“So I take it you won’t give her a call back,” Victor dryly said. He could care less either way. Vicki Vale was just a nosy reporter and there was absolutely nothing about her that interested him. But he was interested in how angry Roman had grown.

“No! You know what? I will give her a fucking call if only to tell her for the last and final time to fuck off!”

“Do you think she’ll listen?”

Roman crossed his arms, his glare intensifying. “She’s a reporter. So probably not.”

“Do you want me to deal with her?”

Victor waited. He really liked how he could see Roman honestly considering it. He bobbed his head left and right, mulling the idea in his head before his shoulders eased and he shook his head. “No. She’s too well known. Even a disappearance would be extensively looked into and I don’t know if my parents would allow me to use the funds necessary to make it go away. I will give her a call at some point. When I have the time or I feel like dealing with her bullshit questions,” sighed Roman. He shook his head and turned his attention back to a new painting near them. He grabbed Victor’s arm and pulled him along. “What do you think of this?”

Victor was happy to help in the distraction, the conversation turning to Victor’s much more novel take on what he saw. He hoped he was there whenever Roman decided to contact Vicki though. Either it would just give him more information on Roman, or maybe Roman would even cave and Victor would be able to kill Vicki. He understood the issue with it. It was similar to the issue with Strange. But then he would gladly kill anyone to make Roman’s life a little easier. If that became the case with Vicki, he might just have to do it too. Hot shot journalist or not.

At least Victor had learned a little without completely putting Roman into a terrible mood.

After the art gallery, they went to eat at the Stacked Deck, Victor took Roman to visit another business likely for his parents, and then it was finally time to go to the event.

It was at the local museum as it involved a new exhibition being opened. Apparently, it was possible due to a lot of rich people donating items they just ‘happened to have’ and now they had a little public gathering all to themselves to pat each other on the back and mingle. Victor would have shot himself or probably tried to kill everyone in the room first if he’d been there by himself for whatever reason. With Roman though, he hoped it would be bearable.

“You explained it’s because your parents donated something?” asked Victor.

“Not to this exhibition, but to the museum in general. A Sionis is always expected to be present. They usually let me take front because they know it’s something I actually enjoy, and I usually don’t make an ass of the family name.”

“Usually?”

“Well if there’s a chance for some fun, who am I to say no?”

Victor chuckled at that. He watched as Roman pulled on a pair of gloves that matched his suit. Victor imagined that especially in this kind of venue, the unusual choice just gave people another reason to look Roman’s way.

The entire set looked good.

Victor followed Roman closely while his eyes and ears took in everything else. The older generation definitely fell into the classic black suit and tie kind of event. Most of the women were dressed in bright dresses, those who were younger had some more interesting designs, but it was clear Roman stood out, likely just as he wanted. It helped that Victor was right behind him too. Even with clothes that cost several hundred dollars all together, they weren’t the style that most had taken tonight. And his rough and scarred face was a reason for people’s eyes to turn to him too before quickly looking away.

Roman started talking to those around him, and Victor could immediately tell he was bored senseless.

They did the rounds, probably mapped out by his parents. But the people they talked to weren’t interesting or useful in anyway. The only small amount of joy came from how they would worriedly glance at Victor, like he was some kind of rapid dog.

The art was the thing that interested Roman more. In the spaces between talking to the other patrons, Victor at least got to listen to Roman discuss a piece with revered fascination or disgust if he didn’t like it.

Victor didn’t get all the jargon, but he did love hearing the passion in Roman’s voice.

About an hour passed. It wasn’t horrible, but as they’d seen most everything in the open portion of the museum, Roman didn’t have anything left to say on the art and Victor was getting bored too. There still seemed to be a few more people Roman hadn’t spoken with. Hopefully once that was over with, they could finally go—

“Roman.”

The voice was young and smooth as daggers. Victor quickly turned to see who it had come from as did Roman. Victor’s brow furrowed. He didn’t know who the young woman was—

Roman responded, equal amounts of honey and poison in his own voice. “Sofia.”

Well everything had just gotten considerably more interesting.

Victor first looked around the room. He’d already identified the security detail for the museum, but now he was looking for people that might be hidden in the crowd—there! Two men whose attention were completely on Roman and Sofia. Victor’s eyes looked them up and down. Well hidden, but definitely carrying. He supposed they’d been given an order to not keep too close. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to scare other people away with two looming bodyguards at her back, or maybe she wanted her name alone to give people a sense of her without the manpower.

She certainly held herself highly and seemed older than her much younger physical age.

“I thought you’d gone off to University.”

“I’m back for tonight. The Falcone’s donated a piece. I don’t think I heard mention of your name though.”

“Not for this exhibition, but the Sionis’ continue to be a patron of the arts unlike some names.”

Jesus, they both looked ready to bite the other’s face off after just a few seconds. Victor had no idea how this rivalry had all started. He would have thought Roman had acted volatility to something Sofia Falcone had said, but now Victor wondered if it was the other way around. Or a mutual, blossoming hatred had come forward in both.

Either way, they were still going at each other for now with hatred in their voices and barbed comments every other sentence.

Victor looked around again. He didn’t see any other people that were likely security details, but the two he’d spotted from before had split and begun to move closer. They certainly felt like a fight was going to occur. Victor had to agree with them. A few patrons who had been near had also stepped away, giving Roman and Sofia a wide birth.

“Are you going to keep standing here admiring the Monet, or are you going to move along?” asked Roman.

“I believe it’s a Manet actually.”

“You’re really correcting me?”

“Only because you need correcting.”

Roman boiled for a second. He glanced at the painting, only for his shoulders to suddenly relax. His head whipped back around, and he shot Sofia a wide smile full of teeth. “Alright, perhaps I don’t know my Manet from my Monet. I’ll give you that. But I sure as shit know a bitch when I see one.”

Three things happened very quickly.

Roman tossed the remnants of his champagne glass at her face.

As the liquid ran down, she brought her hand back and slapped Roman hard enough to bruise.

And then Roman fucking launched himself at her.

Victor honestly would have howled with laughter at the mere shock of the situation but-oh. Right, he was supposed to be doing a job at the moment. He doubted Sofia Falcone had some kind of order to kill Roman in such a crowded space, but just to make sure.

Victor stepped around their grappling of each other and towards the nearest personal guard that had circled behind them. However, his eyes found the other one. He took out his smallest knife. Would the guy actually shoot Roman? Probably not. The weapon that he was quickly pulling out was probably going to be used as just a way to try and defuse the situation. However, maybe Sofia Falcone was trying to get away with an accidental death of some kind, like her bodyguard hadn’t actually meant to shoot. Or the guy was just going to take the fall for it and Sofia could keep her hands clean of the whole thing. Either way, Victor acted quickly.

The knife went flying and hit its mark with perfect accuracy. The gun the guy had tried to pull out slid across the ground as several patrons screamed and jumped back.

Now Victor could focus on the one behind him. He wasn’t too tall so Victor was able to easily elbow him in the throat before the guy could even reach inside his jacket. As he choked, Victor kicked at one leg and successfully brought he man to his knees. Victor bent over a little so he could wrap his arm around the man’s thick neck and held him close. He wasn’t going to actually snap it if he didn’t have to. However, the joy of seeing everyone looking at him with absolute horror like he might do it felt almost as good as actually killing him.

Roman and Sofia had finally stopped grappling with each other, Sofia getting the last hit as she shoved Roman in the chest and finally stepped back. However, even with her hair a mess and champagne having soaked her front, she just looked pleased.

“So that’s what the mutt is here for.”

“He’s mine, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Ah, not even a little playdate?”

“Schedule’s all booked.”

“Shame.”

She walked towards Victor, purposefully taking a large step around Roman. Victor finally let go of her bodyguard and took a step back. He was still poised though. Would she still try something? Would she give an order?

Instead, as her man tried to get to his feet, she grabbed his hair and shoved his face down.

“And you are clearly fucking useless! What the hell does my father pay you for if you can’t take on a man half your size!”

She shoved him down and the guard dropped his hands to the floor to try and keep from falling face forward. Maybe he should have though as she took the opportunity to stamp on one of his hands with her heel. The point easily broke skin and might have even made contact with the floor.

The man let out an involuntary cry as she spun on her heels and finally stepped off him. “Useless!” she growled.

She started to walk away, the crowd easily parting from her like the red sea.

“Excuse you, but I never exit second,” growled Roman as he marched after her.

“You started it.”

“Oh, I did? You shouldn’t have fucking corrected me bitch!”

“You’re the bitch!”

“Oh, great come back. How original.”

“Fuck off Roman.”

“You fuck off!”

Wait, were they really still going at it? Victor rolled his eyes as he quickly followed. He only paused by the other guard so he could pull his knife out of his hand. The patrons parted just as easily for him too as he followed Roman and Sofia to the front of the venue. A quick glance behind him showed that the guards were also following, albeit more slowly and clearly in pain.

It made Victor grin.

Roman and Sofia marched out the front door and down the museum steps at the same time. The action was probably on purpose as they continued to argue with the other until they were finally at the bottom.

“Until next time Roman.”

“Until then, I suppose,” he replied with narrowed eyes. “I’d suggest getting better bodyguards next time, but you won’t ever find Victor’s equal.”

“We’ll see about that.” She spun away and marched off, snapping her fingers to indicate that her guards better be following.

Victor couldn’t help the slight chuckle as he murmured, “You know, I could almost see you two as friends.”

“Friends? With that utter cunt? I think you need an eye examine,” grumbled Roman as he headed in the direction of the car.

Victor continued to softly laugh to himself. Fair enough. They probably were more likely to rip each other’s head off, but in another life, they might have been quite a duo with their volatile natures damaging anyone that got near. As it stood, Victor just said, “I doubt that helped with the possible hit she’s put out on you. If anything, I would guess she definitely has a hit on you now.”

Roman shrugged. “You’ll take care of it if she has.” He got in the car and Victor quickly followed. With no one around and no one to overhear the conversation, Roman started to laugh.

“Did I miss a joke?”

“No, no. Just appreciative of how much more enjoyable that was with you at my side,” grinned Roman. “My parents will kill me once they hear, of course, but getting to see you so easily dispatch those goons, pure poetry.”

“I could have aimed higher you know. Hit the first in his eye with that blade. Snapped the second one’s neck.”

“Oh, I have no doubt,” Roman said with a wicked grin. “I almost wish you had. Her beating up her own guards was a way to gain some control over the situation. But if you had killed them? Oh, she would have been at a loss for words. But that would have undoubtedly caused more problems. I’m glad to know there is some thought that goes into that head of yours rather than senseless killing.”

“I would have rather added a new mark, but don’t worry. I’ll make the best decision for you. If that means no killing, at least for the moment. I won’t.”

“Good. I’d hate to think I’d have to stop and give you an order in every situation.”

Victor glanced over. “You could still give me an order.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” grinned Roman. He snapped his fingers. “Well for now, I plan on putting off the wrath of my parents until tomorrow. We’re going to a club.”

“One of the ones we’ve gone to before?”

Roman nodded. “The second one. I didn’t finish my champagne after all. I need another drink.”

Victor laughed again and followed Roman’s orders.

Though in a good mood, at least this time there was no pretty little thing to drag Roman’s attention away from Victor. For the rest of the night, Roman drank heavily and stuck to Victor’s side, having him tell him of all the possible torments and deaths he could have done to the guards and even Sofia Falcone if only Roman had asked.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have another chapter! Enjoy!

Creating a pattern with Roman was almost too easy.

It was like Victor had been missing a part of himself. Or that his life had been incomplete, only he hadn’t known until meeting Roman for the first time. Honestly, simply the first day alone had drawn Victor near. Now he knew he could never leave Roman’s side.

Despite the incident at the museum, Roman’s parents didn’t exactly do anything. Or if they had, it had taken place behind the Sionis gates. Roman didn’t say anything on the matter and Victor decided it was best not to bring it up. The usual pattern of picking him up at ten except for Wednesdays remained the same. The days passed. Few major changes ever occurred, and there was no sign of Sofia Falcone sending out a hit. Victor of course kept his eyes open no matter what though.

When his first payday came, he finally moved out of that trashy little apartment and into one with consistent plumbing. It was the only day he was even a minute late picking up Roman thanks to some final leasing agreements. He of course apologized and explained it. Roman wasn’t upset about the tardiness, though that might have only been because he was so hilariously horrified by the whole thing.

“If you had just told me, I wouldn’t have made you wait for your first damn paycheck. Fuck, you really can sleep anywhere.”

Victor had simply shrugged. “You’ve helped me out with more than enough. I was fine waiting a few more days to move into a better apartment.”

“A better apartment is one thing. Consistent water is another,” Roman said with a disgusted look. He dropped the topic though and Victor could only laugh in response.

Otherwise, everything continued, and Victor could easily begin to predict what kind of day it would be just on Roman’s mood alone. Would there be bits of business peppered throughout, following Mr. and Mrs. Sionis’ orders? Would they visit art galleries and exhibitions? Was Roman looking to buy? Going to clothing stores and shops and talking with people required of his class? Would there be fancy restaurants and clubs? Or would Victor actually drive them out to somewhere dirty and abandoned that just gave Roman a second to breath?

Some days were more enjoyable than others, but just being by Roman’s side was enough.

Even on Wednesdays Victor could be there. He watched and occasionally recorded, something to entice him in the middle of the night or when he was waiting in the car for Roman to come back. The construction in that area couldn’t go on forever, but hopefully Victor just needed the space as a temporary solution. Once Roman no longer had to go in, to follow his parents’ orders left and right, then there would be no reason why Victor couldn’t be at his side every day of the week.

Still, getting to see Roman at his job gave Victor a good sense of context that he hadn’t had before.

Even with the hope that he could help Roman break out from under his parents, he still needed something in mind for what Roman would do next. He needed a goal, a job, and no way in hell would he relinquish his lavish lifestyle for that freedom unless absolutely necessary. Roman did want out from under his parents, even if he hadn’t directly said it yet. He needed to get out. But there would be no way to properly convince him unless he had something to fall back on.

That was another goal Victor would have to work to. For the moment though, he stuck with what he knew.

Before Victor would go up to his perch, or while he was up there and Roman had left his office for whatever reason, he planned. It was the best time to do so as he obtained information on the butler. He also found out the name of the man who regularly drove Roman to Janus Corp. Even if Roman only put up with him because the guy had probably been ordered to be there, Victor couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy. However, because he wanted the interaction with that driver to be truly enjoyable, he again decided to focus on the butler first.

After all, it would allow him to show Roman that he could be more subtle if asked.

It took a while, but eventually Victor got the bare semblance of a schedule for the butler. He didn’t leave the estate often, and Victor really only had Wednesday available to follow him. It was incredibly frustrating as technically Victor could just go to the estate in the middle of the day, slip in, slit his throat, and leave. But he couldn’t risk leaving tracks. Or being seen and having to kill even more. As enjoyable as a massacre could be, it wasn’t what was needed in this instance.

So, Victor waited. He listened. He paid for more and more information while spending all his other days with Roman.

And then opportunity struck.

He’d purchased the drug beforehand with the hope that everything would soon fall into place. When he got word that the butler was going into the city alone on a Wednesday, Victor made sure he knew exactly where and when. The drug was ready. Just a little prick was all that was needed.

Victor made sure to wear long sleeves. He kept his collar up and his hat low. The serious wind helped to make the look fit with everyone else. On the off chance someone reported seeing some suspicious, he didn’t need his bleached hair and scars being seared into someone’s memory.

He got there first. He walked back and forth over the same block of concrete, eyes wildly looking at every other face, every car that passed by. He paused in the corner of a building when he thought he might have seen the old man’s car going to park nearby. Pretending to check his phone, he was still watching and observing until—

There!

Victor started walking towards him on the crowded street. The drug slipped from his sleeve and into his hand. The needle just barely peeked out from behind his middle finger. Careful now. One little prick. It was all he needed.

The butler jolted back and glanced over, trying to find what might have caught on his skin.

Victor’s pace didn’t even falter. He’d already disappeared into the crowd. He glanced back once, just to make sure the man was going into the same store that Victor had been told he would. With that confirmed, Victor slipped down an alley. He tossed the empty tool onto the ground. He broke it with the heal of his shoe and kicked the shards under a bin. Then he went back onto the street and found a new spot to sit and wait. The butler came back out of the store about ten minutes later. Victor got up to begin following him—

Suddenly, people panicked. They jumped back as they floundered at what they should do. The butler grabbed his chest and fell to the ground. It wasn’t the most lavish way to go but faking a heart attack had been the best solution in this case. Victor quickly changed course now that he knew it had worked. He disappeared into the crowd of people and was gone before anyone even managed to call for an ambulance.

That wasn’t the end of it though. He needed to make sure it was ruled as a natural cause. It was unlikely they would think foul play, but maybe Sionis Sr. would be suspicious enough to push the cops to do more tests beyond a standard autopsy. Maybe—

But no. Victor was able to relax as he got word that the death had been ruled as natural causes. Preparations were already being made to release his body to his family and for a burial. As long as a toxicology screening didn’t occur in the next…now seventeen hours, Victor would be in the clear.

It being Wednesday, he was able to stay on top of it. When he was positive that no suspicions would be raised in the last hours, only then did Victor go home and sleep. He made sure to set an alarm since he’d stayed up through most of the night. The next day he then went to pick Roman up just as he always did. Only this time, it was different.

Victor pulled up to the door.

Roman opened them himself. No butler to be seen.

Victor couldn’t help the breathless laugh that escaped his lips.

He watched as Roman slowly descended the stairs. He got in the car but didn’t immediately look at Victor. He just murmured, “You can start driving.”

“We going anywhere in particular?”

“Not…right now. Just drive.”

Oh, Roman knew. He absolutely knew. Victor couldn’t have dropped his smile if he tried. Roman was probably trying to think of what to say. Maybe he had only heard this morning and was still trying to compartmentalize everything. That was ok. Victor was happy to let Roman take his time. Because of that, Victor just drove in a comfortable silence around Gotham for the next fifteen minutes. He stopped at another red light, getting ready to turn right—

“The butler died yesterday.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Well obviously.”

Had Roman really expected him to lie? Of course he wouldn’t lie. He would bare his soul to Roman if he asked. Victor turned right, still going slow as they were in the heart of Gotham traffic. Victor looked at Roman. He still wasn’t looking back. Even in just his profile, Victor could see how furrowed his brow was, how hard he was thinking.

The next words were still soft, still a little confused. “I thought I told you not to kill him.”

“You did.”

“And yet you killed him anyways.”

“But I didn’t.”

Roman finally looked at Victor. “You just told me—”

“I told you what I did, but I didn’t tell you the truth.”

“Victor, you’re not making any god damn—”

“I killed him. But the truth the police saw, the truth your family knows and anyone else who knew that man, is that his body finally gave way, and he had a heart attack. Or did I miss something and Mr. Sionis is suspicious?”

Victor waited for a response. He turned onto another street.

“No…he died of a heart attack. The funeral is supposed to be held this weekend. That’s all anyone knows.”

“Except us.”

“Except us,” Roman softly agreed. He looked away again. His eyes turned back, his gaze slightly harder than before. “I told you not to kill him.”

“I know.”

“And yet you did it anyways?”

“Of course.”

“Victor, you didn’t follow my fucking order.”

“I know. I know,” sighed Victor. “And I know I said I would follow your orders. But I had to break this one if only because it would be better for you in the long run.”

“And how is it better?”

“I proved to you I could be subtle. You know I have other uses than simply watching your back and being quick with a blade. And you said you hated him. I’m sure there were a number of reasons why, but I can also guess a few. A constant reminder of your father. That’s what he was, wasn’t he? Always there. Always watching. I bet anything you did as a child that old bastard told your parents immediately. You never had any sense of privacy. From any other staff but especially the one that you yourself said had been with your father for years. Am I warm?”

“Boiling hot,” murmured Roman with something sounding like awe in his voice.

“I just wanted to do what was best for you. Most of the time I promise to always follow the orders you give. But every once in a while, I’ll admit I may make a choice for your own benefit.”

“And if I asked you to never hide anything from me again?”

“Then I won’t hide it. I’ll explain beforehand why I might ever need to break an order of yours again. Is that acceptable?”

Roman remained silent again. He leaned against his fist, looking out the window. They remained in what Victor felt was a comfortable silence again until Roman finally whispered, “Take us somewhere.”

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere,” Roman softly agreed.

Victor changed course. He drove away from the highly trafficked areas, from the nice skyscrapers to the lower buildings and broken windows. When he found a good spot, Roman got out first. Victor quickly followed. This particular building he’d taken Roman to at one other time. It had once been an apartment before getting shut down for whatever reason. The top floor allowed for an especially nice view of the filth around them. Some of the walls were down. The windows were broken or gone, allowing for the wind to easily whistle through in a wonderfully eerie way.

They went up there again. Victor followed closely until they were in the open space and Roman could easily pace back and forth.

It was a curious thing to see. Victor still hadn’t doubted his actions for a second. He knew he’d made the right call and that Roman knew that too. But maybe it was just taking him a little longer to finally come to that conclusion. After giving Roman a moment, Victor asked, “Are you mad?”

“No.” Roman’s pacing quickened.

“Then what’s wrong?” Victor knew nothing was actually wrong. However, he felt the question would get Roman talking. He was right.

“Nothing is wrong. That’s the weird thing,” admitted Roman. “I should be upset that you assumed anything of me. People assume all the time. My fucking parents. The pieces of shit I have to work with. I should be upset that you assumed anything at all but…but you didn’t. You didn’t assume shit. You knew.”

Victor smiled. He nodded encouragingly.

“I knew you saw. I was sure of it. You saw me better than anyone, and you just accepted it from day one. But now I know you know me. You really know me, perhaps even better than I know myself. No one’s ever known me like that.”

“No one’s willing to take the time,” smiled Victor. “But I am.”

“And you’ll kill anyone who gets in the way of that?”

“Or who hurts you. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. I’ll kill them all. Or I’ll kill them if they’ve simply irritated you. If you wanted me to slice the throat of the person who next bumped into you on the sidewalk, I would do that too.”

“So eager,” whispered Roman. “This-no. It’s not unexpected. I can’t even say I’m surprised. But I need to know if you’re going to do anything else. Are you already planning on killing someone new? Remember, you promised to never lie to me. I need to know that you will keep that promise.”

Victor nodded. “I’ll keep that promise forever. You can shoot me if I don’t.”

“And?”

“There is someone I would like to kill, Nathan Lansbury. But don’t worry, I was planning on getting your permission for that one as much as I would like to do it as quickly as possible.”

“Lans-you mean the driver? The one my mother assigned me for work?”

Victor nodded.

“On Wednesdays? When I said I wasn’t available?”

“Yes.”

“And you know about Lansbury because…”

“I follow you.” Victor shrugged. It was obvious, wasn’t it? Though he supposed some might think it a little odd. Roman understood though. Victor was sure of it. It was why he wasn’t even doubting himself now as he admitted to how much he’d done in the past weeks. “There’s a floor under construction on the building next door. I watch you from there.”

“You mean you stalk me.”

“Only on Wednesdays. And I’d hardly call it stalking.”

Roman’s lips quirked up into a smile. He walked forward and waved a finger at Victor’s face. “I think you’re obsessed.”

“Funny. A bartender accused me of the same thing.”

“Accused you? Then you wouldn’t use the word obsessed?”

“I would.”

Roman laughed.

“I just think it holds the wrong connotation. Same with stalking. I would never hurt you. Unless you asked me to.”

“How considerate,” whispered Roman. “So, what do you see not-stalking me as? Doing your job? Or something more?”

“I am doing my job. I’m staying close. I’m watching your back. But…” Well, it was almost embarrassing the more Victor thought about it. Roman was almost chest to chest with him now. Victor looked away before glancing up through his lashes. “You’re the first thing that’s ever interested me, really and truly interested me. You’re the only thing I can think of that I would willingly choose over adding another tally to my body.”

“Really? You would choose me over a kill?”

“Yes.”

“Even if you knew it would be the most satisfying one you’d ever done? Even one that left the warm, fresh blood dripping down your front and staining your shirt?”

Victor whined at the very thought. And yet, “Even that. You’re more valuable than any of the others.”

“And you’re the most real person I think I’ve ever met,” murmured Roman. He took Victor’s shoulders and pulled him a little closer, smile wide and eyes bright. “How were we ever so lucky to find each other?”

“Don’t know. But if there is a God, he must have really fucked up letting us even lay eyes on the other.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” replied Roman. “Now tell me, why do you want to kill Lansbury?”

“You know.”

“I think I do. But I just want to hear you say it.”

Victor let out a long sigh, almost a moan. “He’s with you on the day I’m not allowed. Just seeing him fucking near you while all I can do is stare from afar. Of course I want him dead.”

“If you’ve really been watching, you’ll know how I treat him.”

Victor clacked his teeth together as he leaned forward. His breathing grew heavy as his nose almost touched Roman’s before he leaned back again. But only slightly. “It’s still not enough.”

“Maybe so, but I can’t have you killing him.”

“Please, Roman.”

“No. This one I mean it. My parents will take note if their assigned driver suddenly turns up murdered.”

“Then we make him disappear.”

“It will still be noticed.”

Roman was right, but—

Victor’s mind worked quickly for a solution. He looked up with excitement. He grinned wide, moving closer and glancing at Roman’s lips before he looked him in the eyes again. “And what if you make him quit? Surely you’ve almost made him do it more than once. Just push him over the edge. Make it so no amount of money is enough to deal with all the shit you throw his way. And once he leaves and your parents move to look for someone to replace his position? Then I’ll take him, and he’ll never stand by your side ever again.”

“Where you deserve to be?”

“Exactly.”

“You are truly a jealous demon, Victor. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“No. I don’t think anyone has ever really made me jealous. A person, that is. Not a knife.”

“Of course,” chuckled Roman. “So, say I get him to leave. Then what?”

“I’ll pick out a warehouse before that.”

“Somewhere open. With lots of natural lighting.”

“I can do that. I’ll do whatever you like.”

“I want rope then. Plenty to hang him up on a damn rafter.”

Victor nodded.

“Ever skinned a face?”

“Not completely. But I can do it. I have knives perfect to get in the small creases. I can get right up under and around the eyes. Carve off his lips.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Well now that you put the idea in my head, I would have to do it either way if only to try it once. But yes, for you I will most certainly do it.”

“Then I think I have an idea for our first time.”

Roman wasn’t just giving him permission. He wanted to be there. He finally wanted to watch Victor work. At that moment, Roman started to step back, but Victor quickly grabbed his wrists. He pulled them close again. “I promise I won’t disappoint.”

“No need to promise that Victor. Or make any more promises. I believe I’ll just always know.”

Victor nodded. It made Roman suddenly laugh.

“You’re almost like an excited mutt.”

Victor was happy to be called that. He would let Roman call him anything. “Your mutt.”

“Yes, mine,” grinned Roman. “Come on now. I’m hungry and I’m pretty sure I saw a rat.”

Victor chuckled as he quickly followed Roman back down and to the car. Victor drove him to the restaurant of his choosing. Over a hot meal, Victor passed on other ideas. Some were more complicated than others. Roman excitedly listened to all of them. He gave his opinion on each one, threw in a few of his own. It was made all the better because Victor knew this wasn’t just hypothetical. He couldn’t wait. He wished he could hurry the process up. For the first time, he wanted Wednesday to come quickly. He wanted Roman to drive his assistant fucking mad. Maybe they would even get lucky and Roman could drive him off in only one day and Victor could go ahead and get to work. He knew not to let his hope grow too ridiculously large though. They would likely have to wait for two Wednesdays to pass if not more.

Yet even with that in mind, Victor had the ideas constantly in his head for the rest of the week. He was so god damn excited. He hoped Roman would let his hands get a little dirty. Victor could show him how to properly hold a knife depending on how he might slice or stab. Victor would even let him make a cut or two, just to try it out before Victor finished the job. Oh, it would be the best gift Victor had ever received.

However, despite all the joy, finally being honest on many fronts with Roman had some unintended consequences as well.

Over the weekend they went to another club and that woman, the one Roman had danced with before. Had allowed near him. That he’d shoved his fucking tongue down her throat, she was back and somehow wormed her way into the conversation before Victor could even stop her. This time Roman wasn’t quite as plastered yet, actually introducing her as Circe, not that Victor really fucking cared.

Them Roman pulled her away again, but he still stayed closer to where Victor remained on the side. And when Roman had his lips on her neck and his eyes flickered up towards Victor—

Oh, the first time had probably just been happenstance, but this had definitely been on purpose. Roman danced with her, but his eyes were almost always on Victor. He had to be trying to make Victor jealous, just to see how easily he could. Was it a test? Was Roman trying to see if Victor would still be honest? That he would listen to Roman’s orders when he really meant it?

The answer was yes to all of them as after the night was over and Victor had Roman’s drunken ass in the passengers’ seat next to him, Roman rolled his head to the side and grinned. “You want to kill her. Don’t you?”

Well he had said he’d be honest. “Yes.”

Roman laughed, loud and boisterous. “You’re not allowed to,” he said in an almost singsong voice.

“I really want to.”

“I know you do. But it’s still a no right now.”

“Right now?”

“We’ll see.” Roman laughed again. “But you have to listen to me. No killing you jealous little pet.”

“No killing,” sighed Victor. At least he would soon have Roman’s other driver to look forward to. And no matter what fun Roman had with Circe, or really anyone, at least Victor could relax knowing no one could get close like him. No one could ever understand Roman like he did.

And when Wednesday finally came again and Victor was in his spot, all he could do was smile as Roman looked back at the spot where he had to know Victor now was. Roman blew him a kiss from the office. Victor got settled and continued to bring all manner of ways that he’d kill the driver to his mind.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, assuming I stick with the 20 chapter plan, this story is now half way over. Thanks for sticking around this long and hope you enjoy this chapter!

The plan was to make Nathan Lansbury, the driver, the first time that Victor killed in front of Roman.

It would still be the first instance that Victor really got to go to work. It would be the first time he could use a knife with the care and compassion he usually only saved for himself and his victims. He couldn’t wait for the moment. He had never been more excited for any kill in his life, and it wasn’t even the kill that was causing the elation. It was the fact that Roman would be able to see it.

But it seemed that the death of the driver would not be the first time Roman saw Victor kill.

They were having lunch. Roman was rambling and Victor wasn’t actually listening. But he was enjoying the noise just washing over him. He enjoyed seeing Roman passionate. Victor’s attention all wrapped up in him, though not by too much. He was still working. Watching their surroundings and regularly looking outside.

No matter where they were, Victor could always find the rest of the security detail. They usually stuck in their car, staying right outside whatever place Roman was going into. Occasionally they got out. From what Victor had seen it was a rotation of eight individuals so that there were always four following them. The only time that Victor didn’t see them and even seemed to lose them was the few times he drove into the more run-down parts of the city to give Roman a breather. Maybe they weren’t familiar enough with those areas, or maybe the more cramped buildings and older, smaller streets just meant it was harder for Victor find them as they usually stayed several car lengths behind.

Whatever the reason, he knew they were outside the restaurant. He hadn’t paid them much mind until—

They were leaving.

They almost never left before Roman left a place. Though it could have been a shift change. That had happened before. Victor mostly turned his attention back to Roman. Just watching him. The glint in his eyes. An expressive flick of his wrist. All of it something Victor would gladly wrap himself in.

But he was still on a job. As much as he wanted to just give everything over to Roman, the most important factor was his role as protection. Because of that, Victor noticed when two waiters walked out from the back. They did so at the same time, weren’t carrying anything of value, and one of their shirts was slightly off on the hue. Victor didn’t recognize them. His eyes quickly went over the rest of the restaurant again. Two more men who had come in earlier were now looking at the two new waiters. Two more had just entered. They walked forward like they were going to request a table, but their eyes betrayed them.

Honestly, it was smart. They were spread out. If they’d been trained a bit better, if that waiter had been wearing the correct white shirt, he might have missed it. But he hadn’t and better yet, they’d made an even graver mistake. Only six? Really? They would have to try much harder than that.

“Roman.”

“Don’t fucking interrupt me. Anyways—”

“Roman.”

Finally, he noted the tone. He stopped and waited.

“I’m going to get up. When I do, start counting to ten. When you reach ten, knock this table over and use it for cover. Understood?”

“Yes.”

No questions. No confusion. Just absolute trust. Victor smiled. “I’ll be right back then.”

Victor stood up.

One.

He started to walk to the back like he was heading for the restroom. He carefully moved in between the tables.

Two.

The two waiters were almost walking right at him. They really had fucked up by sticking to twos. It made them easier to pick out and far more suspicious once Victor had caught the pattern.

Three.

Victor thought about the knives on his person. Which could he grab without making an obvious movement?

Four.

That one? No, that one? There!

Five.

Victor casually slipped the knife into his hand. Had they seen? No.

Six.

He carefully held the blade, the handle against his forearm so that way it stayed hidden.

Seven.

Which one did he go to first? Left? Right? Left? Right?

Eight.

Left one it was. It looked like they were just going to walk past him. Did they really think he hadn’t noticed? Did they really think he was conveniently walking away now just to give them an opening to Roman?

Nine.

They were almost next to each other. Victor loosened his grip on the blade. The handle dropped into his hand. The one nearest slowly started to look down, the motion dragging his attention there.

Ten.

Victor stabbed the man in the throat.

The second one drew his gun. Victor dropped his knife as he grabbed the hand. He shoved it up and the shot went wide. Only then did the other patron’s minds catch up with what was going on and they screamed. The other man finally hit the ground. He desperately tried to cover the wound, but it was too deep as he began to choke on his own blood. He wouldn’t be an issue.

Victor spun under so that his back was to the man’s chest. He elbowed him in the stomach with his left arm. Then he broke the man’s arm over his right shoulder. The gun dropped. The man screamed. Victor then turned back around and punched the guy in the throat. Only then did Victor drop down and grab the fallen gun.

The man behind him wasn’t quite incapacitated though. Despite the broken arm, he grabbed Victor’s leg with his left hand and pulled. Victor barely managed to retain his balance before he switched the gun to his left hand and shot behind him, right into the man’s head.

By that point, the two that had been sitting had knocked their chairs over as they stood up. Guns were drawn but Victor was quicker. He shot one through his head, right below the eye. The other he got twice in the chest. Victor turned again, looking for the two that had started to enter the restaurant just moments before as he quickly advanced.

Shots were fired, but Victor managed to duck behind a table. By this point, everyone had run for it. The few that hadn’t got out were flat against the floor, hands over their heads as they were probably praying to a million different gods that they wouldn’t get shot. Considering he’d already taken out four of the six, attention was less focused on trying to kill Roman and now on trying to kill Victor.

That was good.

Keep looking his way.

It would make it easier to shoot them between their fucking eyes.

Victor pulled out another knife with his left hand. He quickly ran forward, then slid across the well polished ground and under a table as the two remaining men tried to fire. He sliced the left one’s ankle. As he fell, he shot the other one up through his ear at an angle that led to blood spattering the ceiling. Then he looked back to the other one who was almost at eye level since he’d hit his knee. Victor slammed the knife into the side of the man’s neck and yanked back. The blood blossomed forth as he fell face forward. Victor holstered that knife and quickly stood up—

Shit.

It was seven, not six.

However, Roman wasn’t exactly helpless. A scuffle must have occurred because the would-be killer had dropped his gun and his nose was bleeding profusely. Roman had gotten him good. However, the man managed to grab Roman and started to put himself behind him. What was he going to do? Try to negotiate? Use Roman as a shield as he desperately looked for an exit strategy? Or was he fine with dying as long as he found something to use to kill Roman with?

Ultimately, it didn’t matter.

Everything moved in slow motion as Victor raised his gun. Roman flashed him a smile and then knocked his head back, catching the man in the nose again. The slightly loser grip gave Roman his chance as he moved his head just a few centimeters to the right—

Victor fired and the man dropped from Roman with one final thud.

He looked around just to make sure…but no. He’d gotten all of them. Victor walked over as Roman shook his head and flicked a piece of brain that had managed to get on his shoulder. “Ew.”

Victor rolled his eyes.

Suddenly, a sputtering cough was heard behind him. He quickly turned and raised the gun again, but no. The man was definitely down. He just wasn’t quite dead. It was the one Victor had shot two rounds into his chest. A spray of blood left his mouth again as his body shook. Victor quickly advanced, ready to end him then and there. However, Roman came up to his side. He placed a hand on Victor’s and actually took the gun from him.

Victor couldn’t help his surprise as he watched Roman kneel down in front of the last hitman.

“Let me guess. You’ll die before telling me anything?” Roman said with a dramatic sigh as he waved the gun around.

“Fuck off rich boy,” the man sputtered out before his body was wracked with coughing again.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s be honest. We all know who hired you anyways,” Roman replied as he stood up again.

“Don’t think this is it. She’s going to—”

Roman unloaded the rest of the clip into the man’s face, leaving a mussy mess that was barely recognizable as human. He tossed the gun Victor’s way. Victor managed to catch it and looked it over. Not a bad model. He might just keep it. However, he did add, “You know, doing that may be a bit harder to explain as self-defense to the police.”

“You’re hilarious. Let me guess. You’re used to running before the police sirens get here.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “Normally.”

The few people that were still in the restaurant finally started to move. Some finally rushed outside or into the back. Others just sat there, frozen in shock.

“Well you don’t have to worry about it right now. One, you took out seven contract killers. If anything, the police should be fucking thanking you. Two, this is Gotham. And three, I have the mayor’s number.”

“Well thank god for corrupt politicians.”

“No need to thank him. Just thank money and the mayor’s extremely successful campaign last election cycle.”

Victor couldn’t help but roll his eyes again. He went over and collected the knife he’d dropped before picking up a chair and setting it right. He sat down. It felt weird to just be waiting, but honestly, what else was there to do? He did need to make his marks. Seven-no! Only six because Roman had-he’d really just—

It was honestly more shocking and left Victor in awe now that he could stop and think about it. Looking over at Roman casually chatting with the mayor of Gotham on the phone while blood was still spattered on the left shoulder of his suit, Victor wondered if he was consciously aware of what he’d done. It was possible that he wasn’t. However, he would have to wait to ask him.

Instead, what needed to be done were the tallies. But as the police finally showed up, Victor imagined that pulling out a knife and slicing his own skin would mean the entire encounter would take far longer. He did his best to squelch the thoughts as he silently waited. He was surprised no one asked questions at first. However, Roman plus his family name, money, and connections to the mayor easily had everything under control. The talks were going well with the only question being directed Victor’s way about the gun he still had on him.

Roman, either knowing Victor wanted to keep the gun or simply because he could, paid the man off to let that weapon slip away. After that, it seemed Roman or Victor wouldn’t even have to go to the station. The Sionis family would simply release a statement to the police and the press and that was it. The whole thing was incredibly amusing and made Victor passively think he should have hitched himself to some rich shit earlier on. But no, doing that wouldn’t have accomplished anything. Even if Roman were poor as shit and such an act of violence could only be solved with running to a different city and changing their names, he would have chosen Roman.

And as the time passed, he almost wished that had been the solution. To get out rather than to play politics for a few minutes. He needed to mark the tallies. Could he get away with it while everyone was looking away? No, there were definitely cops watching him. Some out of morbid fascination. Some probably from fear or suspicion or a wish that they were allowed to put cuffs on him no matter what the mayor and police commissioner were saying.

If he did it now, then it would just take longer to get out. It could make things more complicated, lead to misunderstandings and questions. He just needed to wait a little longer…

Victor tapped his foot. His eyes flashed to Roman as he continued to casually talk with some high up officer that his family probably paid under the table. Victor tried to catch Roman’s line of sight. Come on. They were done. Right? His foot tapped against the ground. Please, Roman. Please just say it’s time to go.

“Aren’t you an antsy one,” Roman finally said as he stopped in front of him. He snapped his fingers. “Time to go.”

Victor jumped up. He stuck close to Roman’s back. The urge to just run out of the place and to slice himself was almost unbearable. He forced himself to not outpace Roman as they left the restaurant and started to head for the car. The police had set up markers around the opening of the restaurant to keep curious onlookers at bay. However, as his mind continued to itch for those tallies, he couldn’t even take joy out of the horror and shock that blossomed in people’s eyes at seeing Roman’s blood-stained suit.

They got into the car, Roman far more gracefully as Victor tried not to curl into himself. Roman of course noticed though.

“Are you going to be sick Victor? Jesus, don’t tell me you’re going to throw up,” snorted Roman.

Victor shook his head. He had to take a deep breath before managing to talk. “No. I just…oh fuck. I need my fucking marks.”

Roman’s eyes lit up with interest. Victor glanced over. A thought crossed his mind. Would Roman tell him to hold off? Would Roman tell him to wait? If asked that, Victor would try. Oh he would fucking try but it felt like it had already been too long. His body ached. His fingers twitched. He needed that blade. He silently begged Roman not to put it off. Please, Roman. Please…

“Take me home.”

Ok. Ok Victor could do that. Just focus on the road.

He fought the urge to just fall into himself, to grab the knife. He’d waited longer before. It hadn’t ended well, but he had waited longer. He could just wait a little longer. Just keep breathing. In, then out. Come on. He could do this. In, then out. Just out of Gotham’s traffic and then he could speed down the road to the estate. He would get there just fine. He would get there and Roman would get out and Victor could finally just realign the fucking marks.

Somehow, they got to the estate.

They were there. Ok, Roman just had to get out and Victor would drive-no. He didn’t think he could even drive away. He would make the marks quick and easy in the car and then go—

He realized Roman hadn’t closed the door. Instead he was standing by its side, watching and waiting. “Well get out.”

The surprise was almost enough to distract from the itch. The feeling was still there, but at least for a few seconds the pain was alleviated as Victor asked, “What?”

“Well you’re not doing it in the car. Follow.”

So the day wasn’t being cut short. Interesting.

Victor turned the car off and dragged himself after Roman. He wondered if Roman would continue to put it off for Victor. If he would make a show of the mansion as Victor saw the inside of it for the first time.

Thankfully, he didn’t. Roman just threw open the doors and marched straight through. He went for a massive staircase that led to the second floor. Victor followed. As they continued to walk up, a maid left a room. Her eyes did a double take before a half shocked scream escaped her lips and she fell back against the doorframe.

“Oh, don’t be so fucking dramatic.”

Victor would have laughed if he wasn’t in so much pain.

They walked down a hall. Roman threw open another set of doors. A bedroom? His bedroom?

Victor walked in and Roman shut the doors. He walked over to another set of doors and Victor realized it was a walk-in closet. Victor awkwardly stood to the side. He continued to hold his stomach as he wondered what exactly was happening. What did Roman want? Victor just wanted the cuts. Please, Roman, just let him—

“What? Go ahead.”

Victor looked in surprise. “Really?”

“Go into the bathroom anyways. If you get blood on the floor, it’ll be easier to clean up. Through there,” Roman added with a flippant wave.

Well, if he had permission…

Victor quickly pushed open the door. He threw off his jacket and took out a knife. He unbuttoned his shirt and immediately sunk the blade into his midsection. He dragged it across, his eyes slipping shut and his lips trembling. One down. Oh thank fucking god.

Victor collapsed on the toilet, leaning against the back as his eyes stayed close and he just gained control of his breathing again. Time for the second one. Victor leaned forward, he opened his eyes and noted Roman standing in the doorway. He’d changed, though there was still some dry blood on his neck and in his hair. He was wearing far more casual clothes than he ever left the house in, though Victor was sure they were still expensive.

He involuntarily whimpered as his hand froze over the next spot. Would Roman stop him? He’d fixed one, but there were still five more that needed to be corrected—

“Keep going.”

Victor sighed in relief. He went for the second one. In and across. His shoulders finally started to relax. He did the third one and looked up at Roman. As his mind became clearer, he finally talked. “Never had anyone watch before.”

“Because they’re already dead?”

“Normally, yeah.”

Roman chuckled. He continued to watch as Victor decided to put the fourth one on his collarbone. Roman bent over to get a better view. “And it doesn’t matter where you put them?”

“Just what feels right.”

“Well, I like that you have one just there. It means I can see it every day and remember what happened.”

Victor smiled. He relaxed the blade as he tried to decide the next location. Roman disappeared for a second as Victor rolled up his short sleeve and put the fifth tally on his upper arm. He decided to put the last one next to it. Roman was back as he finished the last slice and leaned back again. He sighed in relief.

“Shouldn’t you do one more?” Roman was leaning against the doorframe again.

“Only six. You killed the last one.”

“I did? I did.”

Victor watched curiously as the realization seemed to finally hit Roman.

“I actually…killed someone.” He looked at his own hands for a second before bursting into laughter. Victor smiled. “I killed someone. Woo! I think I can understand why you do it so often. What a rush!”

“I always thought blood would look good on you,” Victor softly admitted.

“Well don’t get too used to it. It’s far too messy. Besides, I much prefer to watch you work.”

Victor immediately brightened at that.

“Aren’t you so pleased?” laughed Roman. He finally stopped leaning on the frame and walked over. “If I hadn’t already decided to keep you, then today would have definitely given me my final decision. You really are quite affective.”

“I did nearly miss one. I’m sorry. That won’t happen again.”

“Don’t worry. I know it won’t.” Roman gently took Victor’s chin and guided it up a bit. “If I asked you to place a tally in a specific place, would you?”

“Yes.” The answer was immediate. A small part of Victor chastised himself. Really? He was going to let someone else choose the locations? He was willing to even have this part of him controlled? Just how much of himself would he give to Roman? But that small voice quickly quieted. Everything. He would give everything to Roman in a heartbeat.

Roman’s fingers traced Victor’s chin before drawing a line along his throat. “Right here?”

“Yes.” A whisper that was dangerously close to begging. Victor wanted to kill someone right then and there if only so Roman could actually choose a spot and Victor could act on it.

Then Roman took Victor’s face in his hands. He looked down at him like he was the only fucking thing in the world. His thumb gently traced part of Victor’s cheekbone. “Here?”

Victor shivered before sighing into the gentle, stroking motions. “Yes.”

Roman smiled. He looked like he was going to ask one more thing. What? What would it be? Victor would do it. He would follow it. Just tell him what to—

A faint noise that might have been a voice could be heard from somewhere else in the house. Roman dropped his hands and let out a long, dull groan. He noticed how Victor tried to follow him again though. Tried to keep touching him. A wicked glint flashed in Roman’s eyes but the moment was sadly over as he said, “I only know one person who can fake concern so well. Put your shirt on and follow.”

Victor did as asked. His own blood started to seep through in spots. He’d have to throw it away when he got a chance. He grabbed his jacket too and followed Roman out of his bedroom. They walked down the hall, were almost at the top of the stairs, when Roman’s mother rushed around the corner and grabbed onto Roman.

It was actually quite sickening, making Victor’s stomach curl unpleasantly.

She was good. She was so fucking good and if Victor hadn’t already seen the other sides of her, he might have thought this real. But it wasn’t. Just a plastered on mask with the stitching cleverly hidden. Roman put up with it, but his facial expressions showed how little he cared and didn’t believe her either. She kissed his cheek for about the eight time before Roman finally grabbed her shoulders and forced her arms at her sides.

“Mother, please!” he growled. He looked like he might say more, only all eyes were suddenly drawn to the bottom of the stairs as a man slowly started to walk up.

Victor’s eyes quickly took in the details. A similar jaw and build, though a little wider. The man spoke and he had a similar speech pattern as Roman, only his tone felt like a carefully bricked up fortress. Nothing real was allowed to get out, was it? Everything was planned before being spoken out loud. It seemed it was time to meet the father.

“Is that any way to speak to your mother Roman? She was worried sick when we got the call.”

“I’m sure,” Roman replied. The bite was still there but had greatly diminished. Roman kept his head bowed just a little. It was the first time Victor had seen him actively trying to be smaller than he was.

“How many were there? Five?”

“Seven,” Roman bit out.

“Then it truly is a miracle you got out,” sighed Mr. Sionis. He put his hand on Roman’s shoulder.

Roman flinched.

“We’ll have the cook make dinner for you. Your favorite,” Mrs. Sionis said. Had she even noticed how Roman had reacted? Or did she just not care? “You should go rest though sweetheart. You’ve been through so much.”

“Actually, I still need to talk to Victor—”

“Listen to your mother Roman. Don’t worry, we’ll see the young man out ourselves.”

Roman looked like his emotions might just boil over. He was pissed. He didn’t want to listen to them. Was he going to start shouting? Throw a tantrum? He looked like he just might until Mr. Sionis’ grip on him tightened. Victor watched the way Mr. Sionis’ fingers dug into Roman’s shoulder. He watched the way Roman instinctually tried to pull away but couldn’t.

Victor had never wanted to react more than he did in that moment. But he couldn’t. Could he? As much as he wished to act, that would probably just make things worse.

“Go rest Roman. We’ll get you for dinner.”

It was an order, and Roman followed it, shoulders slumped and head still down. “Yes father.” He glanced to Victor and quickly said, “I’ll see you tomorrow at ten.”

“Always,” murmured Victor. He watched Roman go, though only for a moment as Mrs. Sionis took his hands. It took all his strength not to knock her away.

“Thank you so much for what you did. Who would have thought you’d actually be useful?”

A slight pretending to be a compliment? Victor wasn’t surprised. However, one glance at Mr. Sionis suggested he wouldn’t appreciate Victor’s straightforward way of talking like Mrs. Sionis had. He just kept his mouth shut as Mrs. Sionis squeezed his hands in what was pretending to be comforting before she walked off. To see Roman? Maybe. It wasn’t going to be out of the kindness of heart if she was though.

Mr. Sionis dragged Victor’s attention back to him. He gestured down the stairs and Victor slowly walked forward first.

Mr. Sionis said, “So you’re the Victor Zsasz I’m heard so much about.” From who? Mrs. Sionis? Roman? The man didn’t dive into an explanation. He just added, “My wife wasn’t sure if you’d actually be capable of protecting Roman, thinking you would act best as a temporary distraction. It’s a good thing she was wrong.”

“Yeah, well it doesn’t help that the damn security detail left right before it happened.” The remark slipped out before Victor could stop it.

Mr. Sionis froze at the bottom of the stairs and Victor quickly did the same. He didn’t actually care about pissing the guy off. But if they tried to separate him and Roman? Victor couldn’t risk that.

Thankfully, Mr. Sionis slowly started walking forward again and spoke. “Yes, a poorly timed shift change. Most unfortunate. I’ve already arranged for a tighter watch. It’s a mistake that won’t happen again.”

Mr. Sionis actually opened the door for Victor. It felt less like an act of politeness and more so ‘you don’t have the right to even touch the walls in this place’.

Victor just inclined his head slightly. Mr. Sionis didn’t even give him that before closing the door behind him. Jesus! What a fucking prick. Victor kept it to himself though as he walked down the steps and to the car. He decided to just head home for the day. It was kind of difficult walking around when his shirt was covered in his own blood after all.

However, he was only about ten minutes down the road when he got a call.

Despite Roman’s number being the only one in his phone, neither had ever texted or called the other. There had never been a need as Victor had almost always been on time and anything that needed to be said, Roman just said it in person. But he was calling now.

Victor put it on speaker. Roman spoke first.

“Whatever happens, you’re still mine. Right? No amount of money would make you change your mind?”

“Giving me the whole fucking world wouldn’t change my mind,” replied Victor. “Why?”

He heard Roman sigh in relief on the other end. “My father suggested trying to pay you off to get rid of you.”

“Why the hell would he want rid of me? I just saved your god damn life.”

“Yeah, well apparently the way you did it was too messy for his liking and he’s not enjoying the amount of calls he has to follow up with the police and the mayor.” Victor could hear the eye roll in Roman’s voice. It made him smile. “When I said you wouldn’t leave though, he suggested a payout. I just…I needed to make sure.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

“I knew that. I did. I don’t mean to make you think I doubt you. I just…I needed to hear you say it.”

“Then I’ll say it as many times as you need me to,” replied Victor. “Trust me. At this point, I’d say you’re stuck with me for life.”

“Really? That long?”

“You’ll never get rid of me. Even if it’s you telling me off. I won’t ever leave.”

“Good. I don’t ever want you to. I’ll see you tomorrow Victor. Good-bye.”

“Bye.”

Victor couldn’t drop the smile on his face as the call ended. He’d learned two things. One, he meant as much to Roman as Roman did him. He knew it now. They really were tied in ways that others could never imagine. And two? Victor would now do anything to get Roman out of that place and on his own. If he had to kill the parents? So fucking be it. But he would get Roman out.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in a day because I felt like it! Also, if some characterization is surprising or seems off in this chapter, I explain it at the end. Thanks for reading and enjoy!

If Mr. Sionis did want Victor gone, well him pushing his money at him didn’t actually happen. Maybe Roman had managed to convince him that it was pointless. That regardless of method, Victor was worth it. Or maybe once the irritation of dealing with the police and politics was gone, he’d stopped caring again. Victor didn’t know. It didn’t matter as long as he continued to be by Roman’s side anyways.

One reason to be grateful about Mr. Sionis’ threat though was that first call. After that, the calls continued, and Roman and Victor started to fall into a new pattern.

It seemed even if Victor got to see Roman every day, it was no longer enough for Roman. On Wednesdays, when he had nothing to do in his office or he was putting off the work he had, he started calling Victor. Sometimes Victor wasn’t in his spot. Other times, he got to sit there and watch Roman as he listened to him over the phone. Usually the conversations involved complaining about all the shit Roman was supposed to be doing, but Victor didn’t mind. If Roman needed to just hear him speak on their one day they weren’t allowed together, then Victor would gladly help him.

The pattern fit perfectly with everything else. With the calls, Victor was allowed even more of Roman than he would have originally thought possible.

Then came the time to kill the driver, to show Roman what he could do when given time to actually work.

Nathan Lansbury effectively gave up his position.

He left Janus Corp.

Then he disappeared from the world.

Victor got it all set up early in the morning. Then he left to get Roman.

“Today’s the day,” Roman said as he got into the car.

Victor’s grin widened.

He drove quickly through the streets of Gotham and only fully came to a stop once they reached the warehouse. He’d followed Roman’s specifications. Enough natural lighting, wide and open. It was perfect. Victor waltzed in with Roman close behind him. He took out a knife and twirled it in his fingers.

“Lansbury. You’re up early.”

And he was. Victor hadn’t given him quite enough drugs to knock him out for the whole time, but it had been enough. If anything, this worked better as Roman got to walk in on the wiggling mass. Victor had chained him upside down, just as Roman had asked.

Victor bent his knees so he could come face to face with Lansbury. He got ready to tear off the duct tape, but he waited. Before the guy most likely started screaming his head off, Victor asked, “You like it?”

“Yes.” Roman glanced back to see how Lansbury’s hands were tied behind him. He showed all his teeth as he murmured, “You certainly know how to tie your knots.”

“Practice.”

“Do tell.”

“Maybe after this.”

Roman laughed. He elbowed Lansbury and the man started crying as he swung back and forth a little more. Roman walked to a pillar and leaned against it. He waved in front of him. “Well? Please. Go ahead.”

Victor took off the duct tape and pulled out the gag.

“Help! Help! Fucking Christ help!”

“No originality,” sighed Victor. “Help, take my money, don’t hurt me, I mean really. Can’t we get something new for once?”

Lansbury’s eyes wildly looked around. He found Roman. “Why—”

“Again, with the boring, boring lines,” sighed Victor. He poked him with the knife, just small enough to cause some pain and a little bit of red.

Lansbury cried out. He looked around again. When he couldn’t find anything, he looked to Roman again. “What the hell could I have done to deserve this!?”

Roman shrugged. “You’re annoying, and Victor doesn’t like you.”

“What the hell kind of reason is that?!” As best as anyone could while tied upside down, Lansbury spun and wiggled more as he looked at Victor. “I don’t even know you!”

“Yep. And I still don’t like you. But at least now you’re getting angry. Too many people just get scared. Anger is at least something different.”

“You want angry?! Fucking shit fuck what is wrong with you people!”

Roman laughed as Victor stood up and casually sliced Lansbury’s side, right under his ribs. Again, it wasn’t too deep. But a nice spot did blossom in the area. The red spread quickly and then slowed a little as Lansbury yelled.

“Fuck! Oh…fuck. Are you-you’re going to fucking kill me? Oh fucking Christ, I never should have taken this god damn job!”

Victor walked in circles around him. He dragged another line along Lansbury’s other side.

“You’re really going to just let me get murdered? Your parents will fucking hear of this! You’re going to go to jail!”

“No I won’t,” Roman replied.

“He won’t,” agreed Victor. “Why? Because I’m not a sloppy bitch. No one is going to ever find your body. Not that it really matters. If they did, you sure as shit wouldn’t be having an open casket funeral.”

“Fuck you-ah!”

Victor grabbed him, steadying his swinging form as best he could. He ripped through the shirt and cut four lines. Then he went underneath, going around the corners and pulling it outwards. He could see the flesh ripping apart, the muscle being revealed-there!

Victor pulled out the square of skin, blood dripping from one side as blood also flowed down Lansbury’s front at the same time. He tossed the bit of skin towards Roman who caught it.

“Hmm, I do believe you made a perfect square. Not bad.” Roman tossed the slab of skin away. He flicked his fingers to get the blood off.

“Not bad?” asked Victor.

“You can do better.”

“Oh, I will.” Victor grabbed Lansbury’s face. “I’m going to be doing that to your face now. Let’s see if you can make it alive through the procedure.”

“No! No, fuck off! Don’t you fucking-mph!”

Victor put a new thing of duct tape on his mouth. “Don’t worry. I’ll have to take it off to get those lips of yours. I just think this will make it a bit easier while I get under your chin.”

He flipped the knife around and went to work.

It was admittedly a little tricky, especially as Lansbury still wiggled and fought against every cut he made. But he did enjoy a good challenge too. The cheeks were a bit trickier. He cut too deeply in a few places, pulling off complete chunks where teeth and tongue could be seen through them.

Going around the eyes was a little less tricky as by that point, Lansbury had stopped twitching so god damn much. He wasn’t dead though. Definitely not that.

When it came time to get around the lips and Victor tore off the duct tape, Lansbury spoke again.

“Just kill me. Please.” His voice was warped from the air that passed through the holes in his cheek and the blood that sputtered from his lips.

“You really think I’d put myself so lowly as to do a mercy killing?”

The anger flared up again despite the pain. “Then fucking hurry up!”

Victor laughed. He could appreciate the straight forwardness at least. It was impressive compared to the ones that had usually pissed themselves by now. Victor readjusted his grip. He got up around the lips, cutting large sections off as the cries were no longer muffled. The blade cut through one last chunk. Victor moved both arms back at the same time, the knife dripping red and the face in his other hand.

“What do you think?” murmured Victor.

“You’ve done quite wonderous. I can’t wait to see how you may improve in speed and skill with it.”

“Me either. It was pretty fun.” Victor spun the face around. So beautiful in its gore. “What do you want me to do with it?”

“I’d say keep it, but I honestly don’t know where I would put it.”

Victor laughed. He dropped it on the ground. “I’ll throw it away with the rest of him when I finish then.” He looked back at Lansbury’s head, the lines of muscle that could now be seen, moving slowly and painfully with each slight motion. “Makes me think of that horror movie. What’s the one?” He looked to Roman. He shrugged. “Oh, what is it? It’s just on the tip of my-that’s it! I wonder if there’s any…hmm…yes…”

Roman walked closer. “What are you doing?”

“Something new.” Victor managed to get some old screws and nails. Some he pulled from wood. Some he found on the floor. He then used the handle of his knife like a hammer and struck one into Lansbury’s fleshy head.

Nearly every strike hit bone. Lansbury was screaming again. It was poetry to Victor’s ears as he laughed at the pain he was causing.

“Inventive,” whispered Roman. He came up behind Victor. “I like it.”

“You can thank Clive Barker and his fucked up creations, but I’ll take some of the credit too.”

“Well I doubt it’s ever been done in real life. That certainly deserves credit all its own.”

“Thank you,” chuckled Victor. He looked Lansbury over again. He looked almost gone. “Time to finish this.” He switched to a larger blade and finally dragged it across Lansbury’s throat. The man shook and shuddered as blood spilled over his skinned, nail covered face. Victor moaned as he watched the final bit of breath leave the man’s lungs.

When Victor stood up and turned around, Roman was right there. He took Victor’s face in his hands and smiled. “You are beautiful.”

“I thought I was an ugly mutt.”

“That too,” chuckled Roman. “But why not both?”

“Why not,” agreed Victor.

God, it felt so good. He’d just killed and Roman was right there. Victor moved forward and Roman stepped back. The damn bastard definitely knew what he was doing going by the smile on his lips, and all Victor could do was whine as Roman kept talking. “There’s some dull shit my parents want me to do. I’ll take the car—”

“So you do know how to drive.”

Roman hit him in the shoulder for that. Victor desperately wanted to grab that hand and pull him in close. Roman just kept going. “You clean up here. Text me when you’re done.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Roman started to walk away. Victor looked down, already planning what pieces to cut apart first and what to—

Roman had suddenly walked back. One hand was on Victor’s cheek again as Roman turned his face back to him. Victor froze under the gaze, his lips going slack—

“Right here,” whispered Roman. He traced Victor’s cheek bone with his thumb. “I want the tally to be put right here.”

Victor nodded and Roman was gone again, this time actually leaving as Victor could only whine at the way he’d done his exit. Victor looked back to the body. Damn it. Well, best to get to work quickly so he’d be back with Roman as soon as possible. But first…

After cleaning the smaller knife, Victor dug it into his cheekbone and pulled it down. There, just as Roman had asked. Feeling it made Victor all warm inside.

Now to get to work.

He moved quickly, taking the body down, slicing everything up, bagging everything away. He left the warehouse to find an opening into the sewers. He dropped some bags into the water. Another he threw away in a random dumpster. Even if it was looked at before being thrown into a landfill, the most they would be able to gather was that it had once been meat. Nothing more. Even a DNA analysis would find nothing thanks to the chemicals he’d used.

After that, it was back to the warehouse, some last minute cleanup, and then he texted Roman.

He went outside to wait.

About fifteen minutes passed before Roman came speeding to a stop. He got out and Victor moved to get back in the driver’s seat. As they passed, Roman said, “All went well?”

“Perfectly.”

“Good. I appreciate where you placed the scar.”

“It is a good spot,” agreed Victor.

They got in. Victor started to drive away as Roman stared. His gaze was curious. Victor half expected him to ask something about how he’d disposed of the body. Instead, he said, “Any other scars?”

“Other scars?”

“Yes. Say, before this kill?”

“Nothing besides the six hitmen. Why do you ask?”

“Then you didn’t kill an elderly husband and wife two nights ago?”

“No.”

“And you’re certain about that?”

“Pretty damn sure.” Victor glanced away from the road. “Care to explain?”

“Oh, just that Vicki Vale’s parents were brutally murdered last night in their home. I wondered if you had killed them to get to her since I said she was off limits.”

“Not a bad idea, but sadly no. Didn’t kill them.”

“Hmm, well it does remind me I never did get in contact with her. Do you have her number?”

“Should have the business card somewhere in my apartment.”

“Bring it with you tomorrow. I’ll see if she wants that interview.”

Victor couldn’t help but laugh. “You just want to torture her a bit with the sudden, brutal death of her parents, hoping to scare her away for good.”

“You know me too well.”

Victor rolled his eyes but kept driving until Roman finally gave him a destination.

The next day, Victor brought the card and Roman gave her a call. Victor didn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but he did notice the surprise in Roman’s eyes when he finally ended it.

“We’re meeting her at the Stacked Deck for lunch,” Roman said in answer to Victor’s silent question.

“Really? I’m surprised she’s even thinking about work right now.”

“She’s probably just trying to put on a brave face. I bet you I can make her cry within ten minutes.”

“I bet I can make it five.”

“And winner takes…”

“It’s a surprise. The winner chooses.”

“And we’re not going to tell each other what we plan to do if we win?”

“Sure. Makes it more interesting that way.”

“Alright, deal.”

“Deal.”

With that settled, Victor took Roman to an art gallery. After spending almost two hours there, they headed to the Stacked Deck. It was definitely one of Roman’s favorites as far as places to eat. They usually came during the day when it was mostly empty, but they had gone at night on occasion. The place was certainly popular, but it was classier than the clubs Roman had him drive to on the odd night.

Now it was empty as was typical for the day though with a new singer practicing on stage.

Victor and Roman were taken to a table. The people were no longer shocked by Victor’s presence and carefully hid their confusion now. If he was with Roman, then that was Roman’s choice and who were they to question it?

Roman ordered for them both as was usually customary by this point too. They’d only just gotten their food when Vicki Vale suddenly appeared.

“Hmm, she’s quick,” murmured Roman. His eyes narrowed as he watched her quickly cross the room. Some of the staff startled when they realized who she was aiming for. One even tried to intercept her, clearly not wanting her to anger their most volatile customer. However, Roman waved a hand and said, “Please, Ms. Vale is a guest.”

The staff member hesitantly stepped back as Vicki finished her advance. She stopped at the edge of the table. She looked to both of them. “Anyone going to move over so I can sit?”

“I don’t think this will take long,” Roman replied.

“Excuse me, but you said we could have a proper discussion. I intend to get it today.”

“Hey!”

She shoved herself in on Victor’s side, forcing him against the wall. He instinctually grabbed the butter knife. Roman tutted his finger at him before focusing on Vicki again.

“You’re truly doing this now? After your parents were murdered?”

“This story I’m working on is more important.”

“Harsh,” said Victor. Did she actually mean it? Victor doubted it. She was still just trying to put on a strong front. Right?

“You mean about Bruce fucking Wayne. Didn’t you date him?”

“It was a fling.”

“Well, why don’t you go lift your skirt for him and get that information you so desperately need?”

“Not wearing a skirt, and we ended on poor terms. No, I need you.”

Roman scoffed. “You need me? I told you. I’m not a friend of Wayne’s. I can’t give you anything anyways. Why don’t we talk about your parents’ murder? Did you find the bodies?”

“Let’s talk about the story.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “If you’re not going to be fun and play along, I’m done with this. Victor, shove her onto the floor. We’re leaving.”

Victor started to do just that. Vicki shoved back and held her finger in front of Victor’s face. He glared. “Listen here bitch—”

She interrupted Victor while holding him back with one hand and focusing on Roman. “I already knew. I knew you didn't think of yourself as a friend of Wayne’s.”

That had Victor freezing. He backed up a bit as he glanced Roman’s way. This was not going as expected.

“Then why do you want to talk to me?” asked Roman. He pushed his plate aside so he could lean forward.

“Because I think you hate Wayne. I think you hate him as much as I do. And I think if I ask, you’ll help me burn him to the fucking ground.”

She’d shocked them, really shocked them. Victor moved back in. There hips were touching as he intently stared at her face.

Vicki side eyed him. “Roman, please call off your dog.”

Roman was interested enough that he started to say, “Victor—”

“I’m not going to do anything,” murmured Victor. He kept staring. Looking, really looking at what he felt was the first real thing he’d ever seen from Vicki thus far. An idea came to mind. He could be wrong. He could be way off. But just maybe…

Vicki cleared her throat. When Victor still didn’t move back, she let out a tired sigh and focused back on Roman.

“I want to take the Wayne family name and drag it through the mud. But I need evidence. I need money to get that evidence. That’s where you come in.”

“But why?” asked Roman. “The breakup go that bad that you want to make shit up and frame Wayne for it?”

“Wayne is technically innocent,” replied Vicki. “But I will have him pay for the sins of the father and will watch the family business burn.”

“And what sins are those?”

“You have to promise you’ll help me first.”

Roman’s eyes narrowed. He almost looked like he was going to say no. But this was far too interesting, for both of them. He slowly inclined his head. “If it means fucking with Wayne even a little bit, I’m in. So, tell me why? What did that family do to you?”

“It’s about what that family did to my mother. What Thomas Wayne did to her, my real mother, and how it destroyed any hopes of a good life that I could have had.”

Real? The way she said that versus her mentioning the father and mother that had been killed was vastly different. Which could mean…

Victor was so close that he was resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Can you please back up?”

Victor didn’t though. His mouth dropped open into a wide, toothy smile. “Did you kill your parents Vicki Vale?”

“You didn’t,” whispered Roman. He leaned even further across the table as she turned to look at him again. His eyes widened. “You did!”

Victor rested his elbow on the table and changed to leaning his chin against his fist, though he was still right up on her. “Oh, I think I’m starting to like her.”

“You’re much more than a nosey reporter, aren’t you?” asked Roman.

“I have only been a reporter to everyone I met. Except you, right now. That is how much this means to me.”

Victor put his other arm around her shoulders. “Why’d you kill them?”

“Call him off. Please,” she grumbled.

Victor glanced to Roman. He shrugged. Victor flashed his smile back Vicki’s way. “Ah, come on, you can tell me. You don’t strike me as just a cold blooded killer. Must have been a reason for it.”

“Here’s your fucking reason.” She grabbed her own shirt, pulling it down so it exposed part of her breast and chest. Victor looked down to see an old scar, likely from a cigarette butt.

“So that’s why. Now how did you do it?”

“With a baseball bat. And a steak knife. And finally a gun that’s sunk to the bottom of the river by now. That enough details for you?”

Victor laughed. “Oh, I really like you. I really do.”

“Great,” she sarcastically said. She turned back to Roman. “So if I contact you again with the details, you can help me out?”

“Yes, but tell me what the plan is.”

“The plan is I’m going to get the documentation that’s left at Arkham Asylum. I’m going to find the proof of what Thomas Wayne did there, what he did to my mother and me, and just to top it all off, I’m going to make sure Wayne gets sent to Arkham so that he can experience just one iota of what I had to experience.”

“You were born in Arkham?” murmured Victor.

“Yes.”

“How horrendous,” he murmured with a smile still on his lips. He looked to Roman. “You think Hugo Strange might know something?”

“He’s worked at Arkham for years.” Roman looked to Vicki.

“I don’t have proof, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he worked alongside Thomas Wayne. He’s probably even continuing to carry out the work of the Wayne’s to this day.”

“I guess you want to take him down too?” asked Victor.

“Is that a problem?”

“Oh no, I think it’s a great idea,” Victor replied. “I’m just curious if you’re doing this because of what’s right or because of revenge.”

“Revenge,” she plainly said. “If Strange or anyone else is affected, so be it. But I just want Wayne to burn. As long as that happens, nothing else truly matters.”

“Such an unexpected mean streak,” chuckled Roman. “But tell me, how do you plan to get Wayne committed? Unless you somehow manage to take all his assets away, including that old bastard of a butler, it won’t stick.”

“I don’t really need it to stick. In fact, I prefer if he gets out. He’ll have experienced what I did, but he’ll also get to live with the fucking fallout afterwards. And I can report on the scrambling of Bruce Wayne as he tries to even find ground in the shitshow that will become his family legacy.”

“How devious,” murmured Roman.

“You are something else,” agreed Victor.

“It’s good to see your true face for the first time Vicki Vale.”

“I am extremely thankful we met again in that club.”

Vicki looked Victor up and down. “I suppose I am too,” she admitted. “Though a course in personal space might be necessary.”

Victor just smiled as Vicki finally slipped away from him and out of the booth. “Now that I know I have a backer, I’ll contact you when I’ve met with the people I need and your money is required.”

“Alright, fine by me Ms. Vale. Or should I even still call you that?” asked Roman.

“It may not be my name, but they made me into what I am today, as much as Thomas Wayne did. It’s fitting, to be called the monster you are without anyone else realizing. Don’t you think?”

Roman simply smiled in response. “I look forward to this partnership then, Ms. Vale. For however long it may last.”

“Same here. Roman…Victor.”

She quickly turned and left. Roman pulled his food back over, took one bite, and made a face. He gestured for a server to come over and replace the food. That included Victor’s even though he said he didn’t care. Once they were alone again, Victor commented, “You’ve never told me why you hate Bruce Wayne. Or why it seems to be a misconception that you’re friends.”

“Right, I do keep forgetting you’re not from here,” Roman said with a role of his eyes. “Simply put, our parents forced us together when growing up, then his butler forced us together, thinking it would be good for little Brucie to have a friend. I fucking hated him. Even at that age. He was a little fucking tattle tale, and even with dead parents, he seemed to just fucking have it all.”

“I imagine you’re pretty damn excited about tearing all that down then.”

“Oh, certainly. I don’t have some deep rooted need for revenge like our new found friend has, but I’ll certainly laugh when I finally read her article in the paper.”

“I’ll admit to being interested about what more will come. Though I am a little peeved about how things went. Our bet fell through.”

“That is true. And I had such plans for you,” whispered Roman.

“Well, you know those plans don’t have to go away just because—”

“What would be the fun in that? I’ll save the ideas for next time.”

“Or just right now.”

“Patience,” Roman grinned. “Trust me. It will be worth it when it comes.”

Victor just groaned, slouching back in his seat and waiting for the new food to come out. Still, he had to give Vicki props. Few people he went from wanting to kill to being so invested in. Only time would tell if she continued to entertain though or if Victor would eventually want to slice her throat again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So real quick, I wanted to say my version of Vicki Vale and her subplot in this is heavily based on the Telltale Batman games. Vicki has a very surprising turn in those and is vastly different from any other version of Vicki Vale. I didn't add the Telltale Batman games in with the other fandom tags though cause I felt anyone with moderate knowledge of them would realize what I had planned for Vicki and I did want to leave it as a surprise.
> 
> With that being said, I hope you enjoy the very different take on Vicki Vale in this. Thanks again for reading and I'll get started on the next chapter soon!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less Roman in this chapter, but don't worry, he'll be back soon :D Enjoy!

As the days passed, Victor found that besides being shockingly more interesting than she first let on, Vicki Vale could have another use.

On Wednesday, Victor finished talking with Roman as the other groaned and said, “I need to go to a meeting. If I don’t call you later, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Victor agreed.

He hung up and then immediately called Vicki. Roman had always contacted her so far, so it wasn’t surprising to hear her more professional, reporter voice answer with a curious, “Hello?”

“Hey Vicki.”

Her tone changed immediately. “Ah, Victor. What is it?”

“I want to meet.”

By that point, they’d met once more with her. She had explained more about what Roman’s money was going to be used for. Primarily, it involved a drug that would be given to Wayne to hopefully lead to the violent outburst that would get him sent away. Some of it would also go to bribing judges if necessary to ensure Wayne spent at least some time in Arkham. The rest would likely be used to break into Arkham in order to get those files, though she’d talked less about that.

Considering there wasn’t anything on their end that they needed to do, it wasn’t surprising that Vicki was suspicious.

“I told Roman I’d contact him when I needed another payment.”

“Not calling for him. Just me.”

“You want me to meet with you? Alone?”

“Not alone alone. We can meet at O’Malley’s. It’s a bar. You heard of it?”

“Yes…”

“I’m not trying to kill you.”

“Comforting,” she dryly said.

Victor couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, I really do like your true colors.”

“So you and Roman keep saying.”

“What? It’s more honest. And Roman hates fucking fakes. It’s nice to know there even is a real you. Some people nowadays are just a collection of masks.”

“Well…thank you. I have an appointment at four. I can meet you now if you make it quick.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll see you there.”

She hung up and Victor quickly changed course. He got to O’Malley’s first. Alice was behind the bar as always. She slowly approached, her face wrought with confusion as he sat at a table in the corner rather than at the bar. She set down his usual.

“You haven’t been around in a while.”

“Been busy.”

“Not sitting at the bar today?”

“I’m meeting a friend.”

“Are they real?”

“Yes,” laughed Victor.

Alice just let out a tired sigh and headed back to the bar. Victor sipped on his beer, getting almost halfway through it when he saw Vicki walk in. Her hoodie was up, and she kept it up as she sat across from him.

“You know, if you’re trying to not look suspicious, I’d put that down.”

“I don’t care about that. I care about being recognized. Talking with Roman in public is one thing. Talking with you-and here of all places-is another. You’re slowly getting a very specific reputation.”

“Thank you. But are you really going to try and keep this whole reporter schtick after all this? Doesn’t it feel great to be free of that? To be seen?”

“It does,” she admitted, “but being a reporter pays the bills.”

“Fair enough. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you. Regarding your job that is.”

“Something you need found?”

“Exactly.”

“Certainly you have connections for this kind of stuff. Hell, Roman probably pays you enough. Go hire a private detective.”

“I could, but I think you’ll know exactly what I need. Other people would probably just throw a shit ton of information my way and leave me to shift through it. You’ll be able to pinpoint what I need.”

“And what kind of information is that?”

“I want you to dig up what you can about the owner of The Stacked Deck. Personal details. His business history. What connections he has to Falcone. I know that place is in his territory. There must be something there.”

“Does this have to do with that hit Sofia Falcone supposedly put on Roman? Because I will tell you now, going up against Carmine Falcone is a stupid fucking—”

“No no. Nothing like that,” chuckled Victor. “It’s simpler than that.”

“How so?”

“I want to see if The Stacked Deck is a viable option for a plan of mine. If it is, then I’ll need blackmail to effectively buy it out from under the current owner.”

“You want to buy a nightclub? What the hell for?”

“For Roman. I think it’ll be a good investment.”

“Alright. Color me interested. Explain.”

“I want to get Roman out from under his parent’s control. If I want to do that sooner rather than later, then he needs a viable job to fall back on. A nightclub, a proper one that would hold some elegance and respect, not some neon dripped dance floor. The Stacked Deck is that. It could be a business Roman could run. And he already likes the location, knows the clientele and its patterns. And if he can incorporate some corrupt business practices and get into the criminal underworld with it, even better.”

“Does he want this?”

“He needs it. And I think getting into this line of business will be good for him.”

“You said you want him out from under his parents? Wouldn’t it be easier to just kill them?”

“Believe me. I already asked. He said no.”

“So? Do it anyways. Or he could get out himself and just buy the place.”

“A purchase that large, without the help of blackmail bringing the price down, would be noticed and stopped by his parents. That’s also why he gives you smaller sums when you say you need something, and he didn’t just throw a shit load of money your way from the beginning. Besides, if it’s signed in Roman’s name, right now, his parents will just rip it from him like everything else.”

“Oh boo hoo. The rich kid doesn’t always get what he wants.”

A dangerous glint showed in Victor’s eyes as he leaned across the table. “You should know better than anybody that what people think is there isn’t always what’s real. I read somewhere that your parents were pillars of the community, yet you showed me a cigarette burn from them, or was that a lie?”

She grabbed the collar of his shirt and wrenched him closer. His beer clattered over, the remnants spilling onto the floor. Everyone in the bar froze up and turned away when they realized it involved Victor. “My adoptive parents locked me up in the basement when I did anything wrong. When I didn’t learn from my fucking mistakes,” she hissed. “The thing is, you can’t learn from your mistakes when just existing is what you did wrong.”

He wasn’t fazed, but the dangerous glint disappeared. He said, “Exactly. You got physical scars out of it. Roman has his own, underneath his skin. I’ve only seen him in the same room with his mother and father once, but it was enough.”

Vicki slowly let go of his shirt and eased back. “And your scars?”

“I chose my scars.”

“Did you? Or did you have your own nightmare parents?”

“You assume every fucked up guy has to have shitty parents?”

“No, but there was some shitty fucker. Right?”

Victor’s eyes looked away. It was a mistake. She immediately understood. He let out a tired sigh. “Something like that. But I’ve already come to own my past. I’ve found joy in what others see as death and decay. I don’t need help. Roman does. Now, considering you do understand what Roman has been through in some shape or form, will you help me?”

She carefully looked him over. Her answer didn’t take long. “If you help me, yes.”

“With what?”

“Getting the information out of Arkham.”

“Weren’t you going to hire someone for that?”

“I was, but the more I thought about it, the less I trusted any contact I could think of. The less who know my real motives, my past, what I’m even looking for, the better. And most probably wouldn’t agree to me going with them.”

“You want to break into Arkham yourself?”

“I know what I’m looking for. Better me than telling the details to someone else and just hoping they remember. I just need someone to help me along. I think you could help with that. Or am I wrong?”

“Nope. I could definitely help with that. And you’ll look into The Stacked Deck for me?”

“I will.”

“Then we have a deal.” Victor held out his hand. He was pleased when she took it.

Vicki got up and said, “I’ll contact you when I’m ready to make a move then. And don’t worry about the details. I’ll send a rundown of Arkham’s security to you when I get my hands on it.”

He nodded in agreement. As she turned to go, Victor finally turned his beer bottle right side up and downed what little had remained in it. However, Vicki paused and walked back to him. He raised an eyebrow.

“You’re a bit much at times, but I think I do understand you and Roman to an extent. But then, you’re the only ones I’ve ever been honest with besides my parents in their final moments.”

“And they certainly didn’t accept you,” chuckled Victor.

“No, but I appreciate that you do. Even if you’re involved for different reasons.”

Victor beamed at that. She was no Roman, no one could be that, but she was far more fascinating than most people. He liked Alice and loved tormenting her, but he didn’t think he would quite enjoy it with Vicki. At least not in a simple, torturer-victim sort of way.

He inclined his head as she said good-bye and left.

Alice came back over and put another bottle down as she took the empty one. “I’m shocked. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not retaliate to getting handled like that.”

“I think she’s worth it,” murmured Victor. “At least for a little longer.”

“Well any chance you’re going to follow her? Because that would be great. I’ve enjoyed these past few days of Zsasz free space.”

“Not a fucking chance.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” she sighed as she walked away.

Victor stuck around for a bit. It seemed talk of how he’d dealt with the seven hitmen had really spread because even less people wanted to be anywhere near him. It made for a fun evening as he fucked with Alice and started a bar fight before finally leaving to go home.

The next day, he made sure that the first thing he told Roman involved Vicki’s change of plans.

“Is that alright?” Victor asked after explaining Vicki’s reasoning.

“Hmm, considering how much I trust you, and now I really want to watch Wayne suffer, yes. Though I’m still surprised she came to you.”

Victor hadn’t explained that he’d been the one to call, having a favor of his own. After all, that was supposed to be a surprise. He did admit, “I called her.” Then he didn’t lie but gave more a half truth. “She’s interesting to me. Not as sadistic, but there’s a lot to her. And you weren’t available.”

“As long as I’m always your first choice.”

“Always.”

And Victor sure as shit meant it.

Several more days passed. Roman met with Vicki again to give her more money. Then more time passed and Victor and Vicki ended up meeting at his apartment. She seemed to believe that he wasn’t planning to kill her any time soon, and meeting there would keep the correspondence out of the public’s eyes this time. She gave him some information on The Stacked Deck owner, along with the security information on Arkham.

As Victor looked over it, Vicki said, “This seems like a place you’d live in.”

“An insult?”

“Just an observation. You don’t care about much. Do you?”

“I could count it all on one hand.”

“Let me guess, your marks and Roman.”

Victor grinned at her.

“It’s clinically diagnosable. Obsessive compulsive really, how you interact with him. You have to see that.”

“Oh, I know it. So does he. He likes it.”

She snorted.

“What about you? I know you care about your revenge, but what about afterwards?”

“I…don’t really know.”

“Well you can’t just completely cover this all up again. Just be Vicki Vale, the reporter. That would be an absolute crime.”

“We’ll see,” she dryly said. She walked over and pointed to some pictures of the owner of The Stacked Deck. “I’ll get you more involving the business and any criminal connections he has, but first and foremost, he’s a family man.”

Victor pulled up one photo of a new born. “When did this happen?”

“About a week ago.”

“Oh, perfect!”

“Are you going to kill the baby?”

“Would you try to stop me?”

She looked away. Her brow furrowed, for a second looking shocked with herself. Then she focused on Victor again. “No.”

“Don’t want to ruin your chance of getting that information, huh? Ruin this newfound relationship?”

“I stabbed my so-called father, beat him within an inch of his life, and then shot him through the neck and let him slowly bleed out while I did the same to his wife right next to him. I’d do that again, to anyone, if it means finally getting the proof I need.”

“Fair enough.”

She scoffed. “I say that, and your reaction is to smile.”

“Well yeah.”

“I don’t think I could say anything that could shock you. Could I?”

“Nope, you’re in good company.”

She rolled her eyes.

“And don’t worry, won’t kill the baby. That would make things more difficult, not less. I’ll just threaten dear old dad with the thought me skinning the kid alive and making him wear it as a face. If somehow that doesn’t make him cave, only then will I actually do it.”

“Of course.”

Victor just continued to grin, eyes finally turning to the information on Arkham Asylum. “Now let’s see what we have here.”

They went over what Vicki had obtained so far. Victor helped her figure out what information she still needed to look for, along with what tools would be necessary for certain aspects of the job. Since he was going with her though, he would get most of it. She promised to get a copy of a keycard though. That would make their entrance much easier than actually breaking into the place.

Victor did mention the cameras though. “Trying to take those down would be difficult. We could just smash the equipment, but going by the patrols, we are definitely going to encounter some guards at one point or another. People are going to know someone broke in either way.”

“That’s fine by me. When I get the information, I’ll anonymously leak it to multiple sources, even put it online later. I’ll report on its appearance like any other reporter. If the leaks are connected to the break in, oh well. If anything, that legitimizes them more, at least in the public’s eyes. It’s not like I’m trying to prove this in a court of law after all. I just need people to know. I need Wayne to suffer for it.”

“Fair enough. In that case…”

They continued to plan and a night was set.

Victor told Roman once everything was in place. He was pleased that there was some concern in Roman’s voice as he said, “Be careful. I know you will be, but if you’re caught—”

“I won’t be. I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow.”

“Same as always?”

“Same as always,” agreed Victor.

And then the night came. Victor dropped Roman off. He drove to his apartment to meet Vicki. She was in a car she’d bought from some low-level criminals who originally planned on stripping it for parts. She’d found them thanks to Victor giving her their information. He loaded up the rest of the tools. Then he gave her some gloves that she went ahead and put on before wiping down her fingerprints from the car itself.

As she drove, Victor gave her the run down again of the steps they would be taking in order to get down into the archives. He made sure she knew the rules front and back. Then as they got close to Arkham, Victor had her pull over so that the car couldn’t be seen from the road. They walked the rest of the way. Once they were almost there, Victor handed her the ski mask and put on his own.

He cut through the wire fence that surrounded the facility. Then Vicki took out the keycard.

They went in through a side door nearest to the security station. Unsurprisingly, they were seen. But as the guard stepped out to confirm the confusing images he’d seen on camera, Victor took him down. He didn’t kill him, but the man would have a fucking terrible headache when he woke up.

They moved the body back into the security station. Victor looked over the cameras, double checking that the guards were still continuing on their reported routes, that nothing unexpected had occurred to change the shifts.

Once confidant, Victor turned everything off. He could have smashed it, but that would have probably caused too much noise and there was no guarantee the destruction would destroy the footage anyways. Best to just hurry. He then led the way back into the white halls. They managed to dodge a few more guards, but eventually one rounded a corner too early.

“Hey—”

Victor was ready to pounce, but Vicki struck first. Though small, she hit him low in his midsection, affectively taking the guard down if only by surprise. She grabbed the baton attached to his belt. She hit him.

And hit him.

And hit him.

And—

Victor grabbed her arm. “As enjoyable as this is, I’m here for a job. Your job. In and out. Remember?”

She nodded, hands shaking as she finally dropped the stick. Victor could still see her eyes though. She wasn’t upset with what she’d done. If anything, he was pretty sure she wished that Victor had let her finish, the rage shining through.

But for the moment, they kept going. They got downstairs. The hallways were new, but when they broke into the archives, the shelving units and old boxes told Victor that a lot of it had come straight from the old facility. Now Vicki led as she quickly started to open up draws, look at files. Victor kept a look out and resisted the urge to tell her to hurry. If one of the guards hadn’t been discovered yet, they would any moment—

His head whipped around upon hearing her break open a lock. He watched as she looked through some more files, threw them to the side, and was about to move to something new, when she looked again. Her face got closer to the drawer before she suddenly pulled out a false bottom. A new file was drawn. She looked over it in a matter of seconds, eyes probably just looking for keywords before she stuffed it into the bag over her shoulder.

It seemed she’d found what she’d been looking for.

She bagged it all before moving to another drawer, looking for even more. She managed to find a little, but Victor was about to tell her to leave the rest and just start moving again—

An alarm sounded. A lockdown started to go into affect. “Two guards are down! A patient is believed to have escaped!”

Well at least they weren’t looking for them yet. They would soon though if they counted up all their patients and realized no one was missing.

“Vicki, we need to move.”

But she’d frozen.

He quickly walked over and grabbed her shoulder. “Vicki now…” He trailed off, noting the file in her hand.

Names of drugs and treatments that Victor didn’t recognize were printed all over the sheet. Violent behavior. Disillusionment. And a written note at the bottom, in pen rather than from a typewriter.

_Gave premature birth in solitary. Father unknown. Need tighter records of orderly movements. Patient sterilized. Infant to be disposed of._

Thomas Wayne’s signature was down at the bottom, written with the same ink and in the same handwriting.

“Vicki—”

“I know,” she hissed.

“Then let’s get moving. Now.”

This time he grabbed her, effectively dragging her away though she thankfully didn’t fight it. She put the file in the bag with the rest and then they were moving again.

With the lockdown in effect, it meant all the outside doors would be closely watched. However, Victor had planned for that. They went to a back stairwell. The first window was on the second floor. He took out a small, very expensive rock and placed the tip on the glass. With his knife, he hit it hard with the handle. It started to crack. Just a few more hits…

It broke apart, glass shattering outwards. The guards and orderlies had to have pulled up the security cameras again by now. They needed to move.

Victor put away everything and then got out the tools needed to tear off the metal grating. Quickly now—

“Don’t move! Stop!”

Vicki went low again. The man didn’t have a gun, only a taser that he thankfully missed with. Vicki got in close and kicked him over the edge of the railing. His head struck it, neck snapping before his body landed with a thud on the floor below. Victor kept working, getting enough of the metal pulled back to give them room.

“Jump. Don’t forget to roll.”

She nodded, quickly doing just that. Victor followed and then they going back through the fence and running away from Arkham.

They got back to the car. Now came the longer part of destroying all the evidence, but first to drive away. Victor drove this time as Vicki clutched the bag of documents to her chest. With the mask finally being pulled away, he could see the full level of rage on display.

She was trying to hold it back, but he said, “It’s just me right now. We made it. You were successful. Let it out if you want. I don’t care.”

He glanced over, curious if she would take him up on the offer—

She screamed.

Victor could hear how it was ripping her throat up just by doing it, the sound so loud and full of such venom and hate as she clutched the documents all the tighter. It sounded as if her throat would bleed as her teeth were barred and her eyes screwed shut.

He didn’t say anything, just continued to drive as her screams slowly fell away and her heavy breathing was the only thing that could be heard. He got them to the spot by the river that he’d picked out to dispose of everything.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes.” Her throat was clearly sore as she got out of the car. They changed into new clothes and then Victor set what they’d worn and the inside of the car on fire. He let it burn enough to destroy the inside before him and Vicki pushed it over the edge and into the water. Then they started their long walk back to Gotham.

Once they made it to the bridge and were walking past the cars flying by late at night, Victor said, “You feel better?”

“I’ll feel better when this is finally out.”

“Fair enough.”

She let out a long, shuddering sigh. “I think I killed that guard.”

“The one that fell on the stairs? Oh definitely. I know a broken neck when I hear it.”

“That’s the first person I’ve killed. Besides my adoptive parents,” she softly admitted.

“Really? You seemed to know what you were doing.”

“I know how to fight, to protect myself. That doesn’t mean I’ve just killed people like you do.” She slowly breathed out. “I know better than anyone that every person has a story. That’s the whole point of a journalist, to see each person as their own individual thing. To know that everyone has parents or friends or just something.”

“Let me guess,” sighed Victor. “You’ve realized for the first time you’re in over your head. That you shouldn’t have done it. Urgh, I was hopeful you wouldn’t grow boring.” When she didn’t immediately respond, he looked at her. “Well tell me if I got it right.”

“You didn’t.”

“Really? Then tell me.”

“I didn’t enjoy it if that’s what you’re hoping for. But I just…I didn’t feel anything. I ended the life of someone who never did me any wrong…and I really don’t care.”

Victor’s lips quirked up at that. So she hadn’t grown completely dull yet. “He got in your way,” Victor said with a shrug. “That’s reason enough to kill him.”

“It shouldn’t be though. I think…I think there’s something really wrong with me.”

Victor couldn’t help but laugh loud and hard. “Join the fucking club! Trust me, I’m self aware enough to know there’s so much shit they could lock me up for, and that’s not talking about the tens of murders I’ve committed. But I sure as shit am not sacrificing myself just so the norms aren’t fucking violated. Fuck that! I’m going to be me until the day I fucking die, and I’ll kill anyone who gets in the way of that.”

“You know, that would almost be inspiring if you didn’t include the murder aspect.”

Victor showed her a toothy grin.

Vicki rolled her eyes again. She pulled her bag around and started looking over what she’d grabbed. “So many files,” whispered Vicki. “So many people tortured in the name of theoretical science, wanting to see what happens just to see, no fucking reason. I saw Strange’s name on a few, though I can’t promise he’ll go down easily.”

“Hey, this is your thing, and you’re after Wayne. I’ll just keep my fingers crossed that the guy gets at least a little fucked from the information you’re releasing.”

She chuckled at that. They walked in silence for a little longer before she glanced up and added, “I realize you don’t care about this, and that you only helped me because I’m helping you, but thank you.”

“Anytime,” grinned Victor. “You’re still interesting enough to make it all worth it. If you ever need anyone killed, you know where to find me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” It sounded like she actually would and that she wasn’t just saying that to say it. Victor’s smile stayed on his face.

Once they made it to the other side of the bridge and were actually in Gotham City, they parted ways and Victor headed home.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive thank you as always. The comments seriously brighten up my day every time I read one. I hope you enjoy!

Victor was going to lose his god damn mind if Roman didn’t stop with his suggestive as fuck smirks and his smooth as shit words.

Some time had passed since he’d helped out Vicki. She’d done her part, dropping off more information on the owner of The Stacked Deck while also working hard on her own work. Victor even read one of her articles when the patient files and reports were ‘leaked’. It was impressive how she managed to sound so factual and straight to the point despite how Victor could still remember her screaming in rage in that car.

The response was immediate when Thomas Wayne’s name was associated with the atrocities at Arkham Asylum. Strange got some heat too, but the city was more wrapped up in flaying their once great hero, like every person who had said anything good about the Wayne’s felt guilty for not seeing their corruption.

Victor wouldn’t have really paid attention to it except that Roman did.

He even had Victor slow down once just so he could watch the throng of reporters practically assaulting every person who walked in or out of Wayne Headquarters. His sunglasses sat at the edge of his nose as he enjoyed the chaos.

“Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?”

Victor resisted the urge to groan. “You.”

Roman knocked his sunglasses back up with a flick of his fingers. “Well aren’t you’re getting bolder.”

“I’m getting frustrated,” murmured Victor as he pushed the car up to the same speed as the rest of traffic.

Roman shot him that smug grin of his. “Go kill someone then.”

“I did. Yesterday.” They stopped at a red light and Victor pulled his collar down, revealing a new tally that interlaced with others.

“How wonderful.”

“It wasn’t enough to replace the need.”

“A need,” murmured Roman. His eyes said it all. He understood. He knew, yet he still said, “I thought all you needed were your marks. The trail of blood you leave everywhere you go.”

“I did. And then I walked into your life,” Victor replied. The light turned green. He started driving forward again.

“So romantic,” teased Roman. “Tell me, who did you kill.”

“Someone you were with last night.” It had been a clubbing kind of time again.

He tutted. “I told you not to kill Circe—”

“Not her. A male. I didn’t think you knew his name. Now I know you didn’t, or that you even really remember him going by your expression, but that doesn’t really matter,” grumbled Victor.

“Oh no. I…yes I do remember,” chuckled Roman. “He had very curious hands.”

“Yeah, well now his hands are being eaten by whatever lives at the bottom of the river so there.”

“Still so jealous,” whispered Roman. “And all because he touched me.”

“I want to touch you.”

“Well all you needed to do was ask.”

Victor stopped at another red light, perhaps a little harder than he needed to. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Not completely. Beg a little.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Victor made sure his foot was firmly on the break. He really didn’t need to be rolling them into the back of some car right now. Only then did he turn his head and lean over. “I wanted to touch you, the moment I saw you,” whispered Victor. “I wanted to hold a knife to your neck and watch your skin turn red. And then I heard your voice. I got to know you. And finally, I wanted you to do the same to me.”

“What a beautiful piece of sentimentality,” whispered Roman. “And if I just said yes? Just allowed it?”

“Are you saying yes?”

“Perhaps I am. What are you going to do about it?”

Victor’s lips were slack. He moved forward. He swore Roman moved closer too. Victor could feel it when Roman breathed in. He was so close—

It was Victor who moved back.

He was admittedly pleased at Roman’s shocked and then suddenly pissed face.

“Don’t look like that,” grinned Victor. He started to drive again. He did want to move back in. But considering the timing, he wanted to show Roman what he had to offer first. It felt like this would make it more special, and it was enjoyable turning the tables at least for a second. “I’m taking you to lunch.”

“If I ever have to see another god damn drive-thru in my life because of you—”

“I’m taking you to The Stacked Deck. Vicki’s meeting us there.”

“Really? And why is that?”

“For a little legal help. I have a surprise for you.”

“And what could that possibly be?”

“I’ll tell you when we get there.”

“Is there a way to convince you?” Roman’s hand that was resting on the armrest console dropped to the other side, fingers ghosting along Victor’s thigh.

Victor’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel. “You’re doing this now?”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” murmured Roman. “Lord knows I do enjoy toying with you.”

“Like a fly caught in a spider’s web.” Victor shivered as he felt Roman’s fingers on him again before he was suddenly moving back.

“A fly that likes where it is. What if I ask you to touch me?”

Victor groaned at the thought.

“Could you stop yourself?”

Even without the actual permission being spoken, Victor wanted it. He wanted it so badly and yet all he said was, “Surprise first. At any other point, I think I would have already broken. But if something happened now, I might not be able to keep my hands off you for the next twenty-four hours.”

“I can only imagine.” Roman traced Victor’s jawline before fully sitting back in his seat.

It was lucky that they weren’t far from The Stacked Deck. Victor wasn’t sure if he’d be able to control himself for much longer.

They parked and walked in. Roman automatically went forth and got the table. When a waiter came by though, Victor spoke first. He ordered just drinks and then waved her away. She hesitated, looking to Roman first, but he just said, “You heard him. Get to it.” He focused back on Victor. “So, what is this surprise?”

“This.”

“I’m not following.”

“An opportunity.”

“To?”

“Get out. Or just taste what it’s like to get out.” Victor didn’t have to explain further. Roman caught on.

Understandably, he didn’t immediately jump at it though. He scoffed and said, “A valid attempt Victor. Running a place like this…I think I could actually enjoy it. But that’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“You know why. My parents won’t hear of it if it doesn’t involve the family company. It’s pointless.”

“That’s why I’m going to buy it.”

“You’re going to buy it? Now I’ve heard it all.”

“I’m serious. You can start to build something different, something new and something that is all yours underneath your parents’ noses, and when they do find out, they won’t be able to do anything about it. Because it won’t be under your name.”

Roman turned silent. When the drinks came, he downed his in one breath. Victor started sipping on his. “Do you know what territory this place is located in?” It wasn’t a yes, but it certainly wasn’t a no.

“I’ve done research on that too. Falcone owns the territory, but the owner of this place is a big fucking pansy and hasn’t been doing the work Falcone wants of him. There’s been talk of outing him, but there isn’t a viable replacement.”

“And you think that could be me?”

“I know you could be. You’re ruthless enough.”

“And my fighting with Sofia Falcone wouldn’t be an issue?”

“It could be, possibly. But Falcone has worked with a lot of people that have fucked with him in one way or another. It’s all about what’s most profitable for all involved. From everything I’ve looked at, if you take this, I think it could be seen as a valuable step. Not just as a job separated from your parents, but for a completely different career more fitting of your temperament.”

Roman turned silent again. He tapped his finger on the table as he thought about it.

“If it fails, it falls on me. All of it. It’ll be in my name after all.”

“You’re willing to risk that? Just to give me an opportunity?”

“I’ll risk my life for you. In comparison, this is nothing.” Victor quickly finished his drink. “So?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t a complete change. Victor was sure there was still some hesitance in Roman’s mind. He wasn’t giving himself completely to the idea. However, Victor was sure that as long as everything went smoothly, Roman would soon see a life like this was far more fitting of his personality than the shit his parents were forcing him through. “But you still didn’t explain how you were paying for this.”

“I figured you might like to watch.”

As if on que, a new server came hurrying over. His brow was furrowed in confusion as he quickly said, “Um, Mr. Sionis, M-Mr. Zsasz. The boss would like a word with you.”

“Good, she’s on time,” grinned Victor.

From Roman’s look, he understood who Victor was referring to.

Vicki could have been left out of this. She’d been pretty shocked when Victor had called her up at all. Despite that, she’d agreed to meet before this, if only to ask why.

“Is there something else you need of me?” she had asked.

“Nope.”

“Then why? Not that I don’t appreciate this, but I figured our relationship would end once we each got what we wanted.”

“And it still could,” Victor had replied, “but are you really ok with that?”

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at.”

“You. Your true face. Are you really ok with going back to being Vicki Vale for the _Gotham Gazette_ after this? Do you think you can just hide again?”

“I think I’ll be just fine Victor.”

“But what if you didn’t have to be? Just fine? What if you could still be you?”

Vicki had looked at him curiously. Her interest piqued even as she had asked, “Why do you care?”

“Because I’ve seen your violence. I’ve seen your rage. It would be a shame to squander that.”

“And what? You want me to just play sidekick to you?”

“Not exactly. More play it by ear really.”

“I do enjoy my role as a reporter. It may not be fully…me as you see it. But I still don’t want to give that up.”

“Then don’t. Think of it as a day job.”

“And you’re the night job?”

“Possibly. Just see how it goes. That’s all I’m asking.” When she had still hesitated, Victor had pressed again. “Don’t tell me you can let go of what you did so easily. That hatred is still a part of you, even with your plan against Wayne still going so smoothly.”

And that was how Victor had eventually talked Vicki into this. That, and her involvement would be helpful in the more legal aspects.

Only time would tell if this was a onetime thing or something that would continue, but Victor was glad either way.

He and Roman walked to the back. Victor started to take the lead once out of the nightclub’s main area. He opened the door indicated to them. A wide grin spread across his face at what he saw. “Glad you could make it.”

Vicki inclined her head. She wore simple, tight fitting clothes. Her hood was up with a scarf pulled around her lower face so only her eyes could be seen. Though Victor was sure they were going to be scaring this man into silence, if not to death, she did have her identity that she wanted to keep secret. She stood behind the owner of The Stacked Deck, Mr. Bill Smitrovich, with a gun pointed at his head.

“M-Mr. R-Roman Sionis! I don’t know w-what’s happened, but I c-can assure y-you—”

He was effectively shut up as Vicki hit him in the back of his head with the barrel. The strike would have just made Smitrovich lurch forward, but Victor added to the momentum by grabbing his head and slamming it against the table. When Victor let go, he could see he had broken the man’s nose.

“Talk to me,” grinned Victor. “Not him.”

“Y-you’re Z-Zsasz?”

“Bingo.”

Victor sat down. Roman got comfortable leaning against the wall and just watching the show.

“I’m going to spell this out to you real simple,” Victor said. “You’re going to sell this place, and everything in it, to me for a dollar.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to understand. You just have to do it.” He gestured towards Vicki. She hit Smitrovich again.

After he recovered from the pained attack, he managed to sputter out, “B-but this is my life. A-and Falcone would never—”

“Michael. Right?”

“What?”

“Your newborn’s name? About a month old now. Yeah? It’s biblical? Though let’s face it. Most names are.” As Smitrovich started blubbering again, Victor made a small gesture. Vicki holstered the gun. She grabbed one of Smitrovich’s hands and forced it flat against the desk. Victor pulled out a blade with some added flare and made like he was going to stab Smitrovich. The man screamed, but Victor stopped right before he made contact. “Maybe you’ve heard, but I’m pretty good with knives.”

Victor very slowly pressed the tip of the blade into the man’s skin. Once under a couple of layers, he changed the angle and dug up under it. He stopped.

“Stings, doesn’t it?” Victor said as Smitrovich finally stopped being so god damn loud. “The funny thing is, I don’t think it would sting for a baby.”

“No—”

Vicki forced him back into his chair when he tried to get up. Victor removed his knife. He shoved everything off Smitrovich’s desk and then hopped on top of it, sitting cross-legged. This time when he brought the knife down, it was quick and fast and he didn’t stop. He pushed it through the skin and muscle and in between bones and straight into the desk.

“See, I feel like for something to sting, you have to understand what sting as a word means. And babies don’t know what that word means,” laughed Victor. “So what do you think your baby will feel when I skin its flesh from every section of his little body? Terror? Agony? See, a baby doesn’t know those words either so I sure as shit don’t know. But I can imagine what you’ll feel. Actually, I think I will know exactly what you’ll feel when I take that baby’s skin and make you wear it as a second face.”

The guy was really fucking crying. At least he wasn’t stupid enough to think Victor was joking. Still, Victor wasn’t quite done yet.

“Or maybe I already have. Maybe your whole fucking family are just a bunch of meat puppets, sitting on a couch somewhere with blood soaking into the floor. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Who has time to do all that work? But don’t you worry. I’ve been getting in some good practice. I skinned them up real quick.”

“Y-you didn’t—”

“You’re right. I actually didn’t,” laughed Victor. “But I’d suggest doing exactly what I say or else I might. I’d even suggest leaving town. I mean, if you stay, who’s to say what could happen next? I mean, a month year old? I’ve never killed anyone that young before and I’d hate to miss that opportunity. You know?”

Victor cocked his head to the side. He waited for a response. When he didn’t get a direct one, he ripped the knife back out. He placed the blade right on the edge of Smitrovich’s neck. “Do you understand me?”

“Y-yes!”

“Thank you. Then we can get to work.”

It took time but was thankfully pretty damn enjoyable.

Victor didn’t have to keep threatening the man, but it was fun. And Vicki was incredibly helpful as an added threat, and also when Smitrovich called his lawyer in to have a lovely chat about legality. Unsurprisingly, the lawyer meant to legitimize the signing over thought the entire thing was crazy up until Victor started to brandish his knife again. He didn’t quite need the level of threat as Smitrovich did.

Once everything had been looked over to make sure no cracks were in the documents and Smitrovich had signed the last thing he needed to sign, Victor let him leave. The very last thing Victor heard from Smitrovich was him calling his wife as he ran out the door and yelling, “Get the f-fucking k-kids. Get your clothes. Get a-anything you need. We’re leaving! No, it’s not Falcone. It’s fucking worse! Get the kids and get ready to fucking leave!”

The lawyer left a little more slowly.

“You know, if there’s ever an issue, I am very familiar with these…what I suspect are common circumstances for you.”

Victor chuckled. He’d stayed sitting on top of the desk during the entire process. He spun around and partially hid his face with the knife. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’d leave a business card, but I suspect you can just find me. I also feel I should get it out of the way that I have a family of my own so believe me. I am happy to be helpful in all ways possible.”

“Thank you for the cooperation,” Victor replied.

The lawyer left.

The door closed.

Roman finally straightened from his position against the wall.

“So….”

Victor started to laugh. Roman did the same, and Vicki’s hidden smile could easily be seen in her eyes alone.

“Now you,” grinned Roman as he went to Vicki, “have been extremely useful. And I like the look, but I think we could work on it.”

“Work on it?” she asked. “Did Victor tell you this was a onetime thing?”

“Oh, I highly doubt that,” whispered Roman. “You’re a natural. How the hell did you get in here anyways?”

“Back door. Broke their shitty lock. I suggest putting that at the top of the list of things to fix.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. And you.” Roman finally turned on Victor. He walked over and leaned his hands on either side of him. “I can’t believe you did all this, just for me.”

“Vicki helped.”

“But you came up with the idea.”

“I did.”

Roman just smiled. He was so fucking close again. Was it on purpose? Or just innate, to let themselves be drawn to each other?

Vicki interrupted the moment as she said, “I have a draft due by eight tonight. I’ll see you both later.”

Victor quickly turned his attention to her. “How do you feel? After everything?”

She paused. Her eyes flickered away before looking back to them. She shrugged. “More normal than when I’m reporting.”

Victor smiled. “I’ll call you.”

“We’ll see if I answer.”

Victor laughed as he watched her go. His gaze moved to Roman. He sighed. “So, what do you want to do first?”

“Hmm, I have a few ideas…but first to inspect this place.”

Victor groaned as Roman pulled back. He wanted to chase after him. The temptation to just grab him was so strong, but he held it back again. Just a little longer hopefully. Victor said, “Let’s get to work then.”

Despite how Roman had only learned about the plan within the last hour or two, his decision making on how things would begin to change was instantaneous. The staff was talked to, one was fired. No one just walked away though. Victor imagined they were too afraid to do such a thing with their new boss.

For the moment, The Stacked Deck would stay open, business as usual. However, Roman was already planning some construction changes and there was an upper floor only used for storage that could be turned into something more useful. The name as well. Roman sure as shit wasn’t keeping that, though he hadn’t thought of what he was going to change it to yet.

They ate there too, though this time Roman tried something different so he could decide if he wanted to change that menu too. Their time at The Stacked Deck took up the rest of their day. When they got back to the car, Roman said, “Take me home.”

Victor drove him there. When he stopped at the front doors, Victor let out a shuddering sigh. “Is this as close as you’ll let me get?”

“Afraid that it might be?”

Victor made a noise in the back of his throat.

“Prolonging it makes the payoff so much sweeter. Don’t you think?”

In a way it did. But after today? Victor wanted to. He needed to. He had to. But Roman slipped out of the car. He held the door and—

“I want you to come inside.”

Victor blinked in surprise. “I don’t think your parents would be too thrilled with that.”

“They don’t have to know. Park the car off a way and walk back. I’ll leave the window open. You remember where my room is right?”

Victor quickly mapped out the path he’d walked the last time. He looked to the outside of the building. “I do.”

“Then hurry up.”

Roman walked away. Victor slowly breathed in and out. Was this… Was he asking… He had to be. Right? Or was this just going to be Roman fucking teasing him again?

Victor realized that though he knew what he would have preferred, it ultimately didn’t matter. Having more time with Roman period was more important than anything else. He did as he was told and drove away. Then he pulled off and walked straight back.

It was dark.

He wasn’t sure if there were some people who regularly patrolled the grounds that he’d have to be wary of, but he was careful all the same. He climbed the walling, walked over the grounds and to the estate. His eyes looked over all possible handholds and places for his feet to go before he nimbly went up, grabbed the ledge, and pulled himself in.

“So eager.”

Roman was still in his clothes, probably having talked with his parents before finally being allowed to retire. He walked over and stopped just centimeters away. Victor breathed him in.

“Please,” Victor whispered. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep doing this. “Please just—”

“Touch me.” Despite how in control Roman normally was. Despite how it was usually him who pulled back, now he sounded as desperate as Victor felt. The feeling fully went both ways. “Touch—”

Victor grabbed his face and kissed him for the first time. He pushed him back several steps before Roman switched it. He turned them and pushed Victor’s back against the bed. Victor moved his lips to Roman’s neck, sucking as Roman moaned and pushed his hips against Victor’s. When Victor got a chance, he fully broke contact though. He kicked off his shoes and pushed himself back so he was completely on the bed. Roman followed and his lips quickly connected with Victor’s again.

For a moment, that was all it was. Lips and teeth and hands that gripped each other hard enough to bruise. Then Victor got one leg around Roman’s and used that to help flip them again. His hand slipped under Roman’s shirt, for a moment just touching his smooth, unblemished skin. Then he shifted his body. He undid Roman’s pants and slipped his hand under the hem.

“Fuck me,” gasped Roman before he grabbed Victor and pulled him into another kiss.

“You’re so…beautiful,” Victor got out whenever his lips left Roman. “And I’ve…waited…too long…for this.”

“Fuck knows I can’t just leave it at teasing now,” Roman eventually got out.

“I wouldn’t let you.”

More clothes slipped off. The heat, the animalistic want to practically claw the other raw was there, but so was the want to memorize and map out every detail of each other. Victor’s hands moved over the muscles, trying to permanently remember each curve. And Roman traced the marks. Each one he found he wanted to be closer to it. He drew his thumb along it or kissed it.

Any partners Victor had taken had ignored them or even been afraid to touch the scars. Some of them had even become a tally. But not Roman. Roman wanted all of him, cherished them almost as deeply as Victor did, and it was the most exhilarating thing Victor had ever felt.

More clothes got thrown onto the floor until it was just skin against skin. Victor grinded against him, lips pushing Roman’s open and tongue slipping by his—

When Roman managed to get a breath in again, he said, “Side table. Now.”

It was torture pulling away from Roman for even a second, but it was all worth it when he moved back to lying on him again, nothing between them as Victor went from kissing Roman’s lips to down his neck.

Fingers tangled in Roman’s hair, Victor’s body pressed against him and then into him, and then Roman flipped them again. He sat back, a deep moan escaping Victor’s lips before Roman bent forward again and swallowed his breath whole. One hand gripped Roman’s back. The other slipped between them, stroking Roman in time with the motions as they grew faster and faster—

Victor wrapped his arms around Roman and pulled him closer as they shook from the release and Roman kissed him through it.

When they both pulled back to breath, Victor whispered the words, utterly possessive with the threat that if anyone ever grew close again, he would skin them alive.

“You’re mine.”

Roman responded in kind. “And you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” agreed Victor, drawing a much slower kiss from him as they twisted so Roman was lying on his side but partially over Victor. For a moment, they were just there, but Victor could feel the movement and quickly grabbed Roman’s wrist. “We can take a shower in the morning.”

“You’re suggesting I actually sleep like this?”

“Not suggesting, telling. I refuse to let you go right now.”

Roman groaned but didn’t fight Victor’s iron grip. Since they weren’t even lying in the correct direction, Victor leaned over and grabbed some of the pillows that hadn’t gotten kicked or knocked off. He pulled them over and then completely pulled Roman into him again.

“Hmm, lights Victor.”

“You’re trying to make me believe you don’t have some fancy automatic light shit?”

Roman rolled his eyes. He clapped his hands. The lights went down, and he fully wrapped himself around Victor.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Shut up.”

Victor grinned, moving his lips back to Roman’s as he never let his iron grip ease up.

In the morning, Victor woke to the feeling of Roman’s lips and a hand slowly stroking him. He groaned before turning into Roman’s neck.

“I only had to do about half the work,” whispered Roman. “Were you dreaming of me?”

“Yes.”

“I knew it.” Roman stroked him again. And— “Time for a shower.”

Victor let out a needy whine, quickly following Roman before the warmth of his skin against Victor’s left.

In the shower, Roman pushed Victor against the glass and fucked him against it before the actual function of the shower was even fulfilled. Victor didn’t know how he was going to be able to handle going to his own apartment after last night. Or really leaving Roman’s side ever again. Oh fuck…

Once out and as Victor was getting dressed, he said, “Time to jump out the window again?”

Roman paused. He thought about it for a second before he finally said, “Fuck it. Let my parents see us leave together. Besides, I could do with a good morning walk. We’ll go to the car together too.”

“So we’re leaving now? Rather than me coming back at ten?”

“Yes. We’re going for breakfast.”

It was the first time they’d done so. It made Victor grin. He sat back on the bed and watched as Roman took much more time with himself, cleaning his face and choosing his clothes and everything like that. Victor did mind though. He just enjoyed the chance to watch Roman more in a new environment.

Once ready, they left the room. Victor wondered if they might be able to leave without encountering Mr. or Mrs. Sionis, but it seemed that wouldn’t be the case. Mrs. Sionis came out of a door as they finished walking down the stairs.

“There you are Roman. Breakfast is…”

“I’m going with Victor. I’ll see you later,” Roman replied when she’d trailed off. Victor wondered if the shock would allow them to leave without incident.

Instead, she got over it and quickly walked in front of them, specifically Victor. Since the father wasn’t around, Victor acted like he had during that meeting for the initial job opening. He spoke plainly. “What? You have a problem with it?”

“You can fuck my son wherever you like Mr. Zsasz.”

“How wonderfully polite of you mother,” Roman sarcastically said.

“But there was still the stipulation that you never enter this house. Last time was a special circumstance. I never want to see you in here again. Is that understood?”

“Crystal,” Victor said with all his teeth bared.

“Good.” That sickly-sweet smile came back and she kissed Roman’s cheek who made a face but let it happen. “I’ll see you later sweetheart.”

Roman clearly was resisting the urge to groan at the fake kindness. Victor didn’t stop himself though and rolled his eyes at her. She simply looked him over once more, let out a small huff, and walked away.

As they were finally able to walk out the front door, Victor said, “I think she regrets hiring me.”

“Let her keep regretting it then. You’re mine and I won’t let anything take you from me. Not even my parents now.”

It was a promise that assured Victor he was on the right track. They weren’t completely there, but soon. Roman would be out from under his parents. He would be completely free and all that was him would be Victor’s and he couldn’t wait for it.

They started the walk down the drive and towards the car.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting close to the end now! I'm having so much fun writing this and thank you all for continuing to read it. Enjoy!

Work on The Stacked Deck began quickly once Roman was sure of the aesthetic he was going for. It was a profitable enough business that the money made could go back into the remodeling. What Roman put into it from himself was also small enough that at least immediately, his parents didn’t pick up on it. One of the first things he had done was revamp the office. When it was done, he’d shown Victor.

“Notice anything?”

Victor cocked his head to the side. The painting behind the chair was haunting. “It’s the one you bought because I said I liked it despite knowing jack about art. The first one you ever asked my opinion on.”

Roman smiled at the memory, though that dropped a little as he explained. “I know that once my parents hear of this, they’ll do whatever they can to shove me into a corner. And they’ll probably do petty shit as well like damaging some of my more priced possessions. I didn’t want this harmed. It’s too valuable.”

The fact that Roman didn’t mean monetarily warmed Victor immensely. He slightly moved behind Roman, nuzzling his neck as his hands slipped around Roman’s waist.

“You think I’m going to let you defile my office?” Victor could hear the smile in Roman’s voice.

“Technically, it’s my office. Technically—” Victor slipped his hand down Roman’s pants. “—I’m your boss.”

“Oh really? And what are you going to do about it?”

Victor kicked the door shut as his answer.

It was an aspect of their relationship that was starting to get them into trouble, not that Victor fucking cared. Now that he had his hands on Roman, it was torture to let him go. Victor stuck by his side closer than before, his chest almost always pressed to Roman’s back. Sometimes he would sneak in a kiss, soft and quick against Roman’s neck. Depending on what Roman was trying to focus on, he’d bat Victor away. But Victor could see how much it affected them both. Sometimes Roman even put aside a discussion with an art curator or a person at the club-his club now-to say, “Won’t be but a minute,” before dragging Victor into some corner or closed off room.

One time, Victor even parked them in a back alley so he could climb into Roman’s lap because he just couldn’t wait any longer.

Considering how often Victor was on Roman, it was impressive any work on the club got done, but it slowly did.

Along the way, Victor occasionally included Vicki where he could. He did want to see her grow, to be herself and not what society constricted her to. Her work involving Wayne was affectively over as well, though Victor suspected she would always keep an eye on him, ready to fuck his life over when she deemed it necessary. Her little drug had been effective. With a toxicology report coming back clean, many had explained Wayne’s suddenly violent actions as a nervous breakdown caused by the stress of the unearthing of his father’s real legacy.

That had only earned Wayne a three day stent in Arkham.

Of course he’d gotten out. The rich could always afford to. But Vicki would be there, ready and waiting to send him back when she decided he needed another visit. Personally, Victor would have just killed Wayne. But he understood that at least from Vicki’s perspective, that would have been far too simple. Whereas Victor saw the final breath of life as the pinnacle, for Vicki it was the long, never ending pain until the person wished they would draw their final breath. Who knew? Maybe she would drive Wayne to such a thing. But Victor imagined that if there was ever a risk of that, Vicki would pull him back just enough so she could find a way to torment him more.

It was a different kind of abhorrent nature than Victor’s own, but he was still determined to keep her real self active.

A terrific opportunity came to do just that.

Falcone hadn’t made contact yet. To be fair, the man had the largest amount of territory in Gotham, controlled the other mob bosses, and The Stacked Deck hadn’t exactly been criminally profitable under Smitrovich. Either he was choosing to focus on other things, or he was silently watching and waiting to see what Roman would do. It turned out so were others as Roman obtained some interesting information. He passed it along to Victor. As he put it, “The sudden replacement of Smitrovich has made some local thugs thing they could use this place as a front.”

“Not from Falcone?” Victor asked.

“Obviously. They’re fucking morons. Either they think I’d really decide to do business with them, which in turn would be saying a direct fuck you to the most powerful mob boss in Gotham, or this meeting is a way to intimidate us into handing over the location. And if that’s the case, then they’re twice as fucking stupid. I want you to take care of it.”

“Can I take Vicki on it?”

“Ah, a little playdate?”

“It’s been too long. I don’t want her to forget herself.”

“We couldn’t have that. Now could we? That does remind me that I wanted to talk to her again though. About work that is.”

Victor peeked up in interest. “Working for you?”

“Something like that. An investigative reporter can be just as beneficial if not more than a dirty cop. And she has her own reputation slowly growing behind yours. The unknown woman who isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. I’d like that to become a real job. Not just you dragging a friend along.”

Victor chuckled. “Fair enough. I’ll see what I can do. Shouldn’t be too difficult to convince her.”

“Good. And when she agrees-as she of course will-tell her I have a solution to her identity concerns.”

“Really?”

“Yes, though I need to make a call. It likely won’t be here for another two days. But it will be worth it.”

“I’ll make sure to tell her that too.”

And Victor had been successful in convincing her. He’d known he would be. The darkness was too open now, the doors broken and unable to fully shut ever again. Plus, despite her initial words of doubt and disbelief that a relationship could continue between them, they were the only people to see Vicki as her real self. She was pulled in, just as Victor had been pulled in when he realized Roman could understand him better than anyone else.

On the day Victor was meant to meet with the people that supposedly wanted to work with The Stacked Deck, he brought Vicki along to the club. They went into the back where Roman had his surprise waiting.

“You can wear this. And it has far less chance of falling off compared to a hood and scarf.”

Vicki held it in her hands, fingers carefully going over the craftmanship. “I thought you didn’t like masks.”

“This isn’t a mask. This is the real you.”

She looked it over before slowly putting it on. Her bright eyes shown through the black skull that rested on her head. It was certainly a haunting image. Victor could imagine a stranger’s eyes slowly roaming up her body, only to be met with the face of death.

Roman’s finger carefully traced the edges, probably double checking the craftsmanship before focusing on Vicki. “I want you to work for me.”

“So Victor told me.”

“Will I have to convince you?”

“What’s your goal?”

“To grow this operation beyond a simple nightclub. You can only trust people so much, but I want the people closest to me to be people I can trust completely. I trust you, and you have a variety of skills that could be beneficial down the road.”

“You say that, yet Victor also told me the people we’re to meet we’re to kill.”

“They want to take a place that is in Falcone’s territory under their own wing. Besides them being monstrously stupid, killing them should also act as a show of good faith towards Falcone. I plan to be in this game for the long hall, and that means not being so stupid as to go up against Falcone. Not yet, anyways.”

Vicki nodded in understanding. “I’m glad you can see that. Everyone wants to get to the top. Everyone knows that in the underworld, and sometimes the best way is to fit yourself inside the current structure rather than disrupting it.” She unholstered her gun. “I’ll help you today. And perhaps…perhaps I’ll work with you tomorrow.”

“I’d like that,” smiled Roman. “Now, hurry up and go. I need to figure out what flooring we’re putting down upstairs. Still need to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do with the upstairs. No way in hell I need that much fucking storage space.” He glanced down at some documents, but his face was drawn upwards as Victor drew a long kiss from him. Roman hummed. “Try not to get blood on this shirt. I like it on you.”

“You like everything that you pick out for me.”

“Because I know taste. Now go.” Roman kissed him again. “Make them bleed.”

Victor reluctantly dragged himself away before spinning on his heels and leaving. Vicki followed close behind, adding, “What happened between you two?”

“We fucked.”

“I thought you were already fucking.”

“Just a long, really fucking long, version of foreplay.”

Vicki snorted. “You might want to be careful with that. Considering this life Roman is coming into, people won’t hesitate to use you against him.”

“Let them come. I’ll kill anyone who tries that.”

“And what if one slips through?”

“Well I have you for backup.”

“I suppose you do,” chuckled Vicki.

They left the area, Victor driving to the location designated by the contact. Once inside, Victor met with the kind of people he’d expected to see. Wannabe thugs. Grandiose illusions. And clearly lying through their teeth as to how much they really had to offer. Victor shot the first one through his left eye before they’d even finished giving their shit offer. Vicki acted quickly too. She shot from afar. When she got close to one, she took a pipe and crushed one man’s knee before flipping him over and bashing his brains in.

There was a great deal of raw energy that she always seemed to release, rather than the more fluid motions Victor produced once his knife was out and the blade was being pressed through a throat. He imagined that she’d killed her parents with the same kind of brutality and now passed it on to anyone else in her way.

Once nine people lay dead in the room, Vicki removed the mask, putting it under her arm as Victor first wiped his knife clean before pulling up his shirt.

As he made his marks, he asked, “I’m guessing you haven’t disposed of a body yet.”

“Only evidence.”

Victor laughed. “Well, I can help if you ever find yourself in such a situation, but I’ll show you some things you want to always do. It helps with destroying evidence too, obviously.”

Once the tallies were in place, Victor made sure to cover them with gauze he’d stuffed in his pocket. He had promised Roman not to get any blood on the shirt. Then, he and Vicki took apart what was needed. They dropped the bodies in dumpsters rather than going to any real lengths to hide them. They were career criminals after all. Even if they hadn’t been good ones. The police would assume they’d gotten into some type of illegal trouble.

Back at the club, Roman was overseeing a practice session for one of the performers. He started to shout something at her, but gestured for someone else to take over when he saw Victor and Vicki walk in.

“Fruitful?” asked Roman.

Victor stole a kiss before moving to stand by his shoulder. “Very.”

“And how is my Black Mask?” murmured Roman. His hands appreciatively went over the craftmanship again.

“Didn’t let one of them even bruise me, if that’s what you’re asking.” Vicki cocked her head to the side. The action was positively threatening coming from a charred skeleton.

“Oh! I fucking have it!”

“What?” asked Victor as he leaned into Roman more and looked up at him.

“The name. I was so stuck trying to change it, but now I know. The Black Mask.”

“You’re joking,” Vicki said.

“I’m absolutely not,” grinned Roman. “That name will grow to be associated with me, and then whenever you’re seen, people will fucking know who sent you.”

“Well, it’s certainly one way to brand,” Vicki dryly said. Her bright eyes flickered to Victor underneath the skull. “Your take?”

“It’s morbid. I like it. Anyone ever sees a man riddled with scars and a black skeleton at his side, they’ll know who fucking sent them.”

Roman stroked one of Victor’s scars appreciatively. “They certainly fucking will.”

“You’ll need more though,” Vicki said.

Roman looked to her curiously.

“Obviously, don’t trust anyone farther than you can throw them. But you’ll need to begin gathering your own group of men that you can rely on to carry out general tasks or anything you deem beneath Victor’s skillset.”

“That is true. I take it you have something in mind seeing as you brought it up?”

She nodded. “Ex-military. I never directly made contact with him, but I heard of him through my day job. I can track him down and send you and Victor the information. Hire him as a security detail for the club.”

“And does this man come with others? He may be effective, but I won’t have an already established hierarchy with other loyalties getting involved.”

“That’s smart to think of. Especially with military types. But no. Last I checked, and from what was written up on him, the last person he truly followed was his commanding officer. After he died…well I’ll have to track him down to determine just how viable he still is. But a man like that will want consistency, a schedule, orders to follow. If you can give him that, he’s yours.”

“His name?”

“Barsad.”

Roman mulled it over in his head for a second before he said, “Alright, find him. If you think he’ll work, I trust your judgement to send him this way.”

“Then I best be going. Roman, Victor.”

As she left, the staff that hadn’t seen the new addition to her wardrobe flinched away in surprise. It made Victor smile. His eyes finally turned back to Roman once Vicki was gone though. He tried to touch him more, but Roman smacked him away. “I need to deal with other business this afternoon. We’re leaving in five.”

Other business had grown to mean anything that his parents still required of him. Victor hoped that soon Roman would never have to deal with that again. He could just cut himself completely from everything, be free. For now though, he still went through the motions.

Victor went ahead and got the car, pulling it to the entrance as Roman stepped out and got in. As Victor pulled away, he noted the still present security detail following them. He briefly wondered if they reported on where Roman went, and if they’d spoken of the increased time spent at The Stacked Deck during almost all hours. If they were, then Mr. and Mrs. Sionis would probably discover what was going on sooner rather than later.

On the one hand, that would hopefully mean Roman would finally and officially cut himself from them. But what if it just ended up pushing him back? What if Roman second guessed himself and decided this all had been a terrible misstep because that happened too soon?

Victor hoped that when the time came, Roman could make the right decision for himself. If he couldn’t, well then hopefully Victor’s presence would be able to guide him towards the right direction.

For now though, he just followed the directions and finally parked at an office building. Roman let out a tired sigh and said, “This shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes.”

He quickly got out and started to walk away. To be fair, Victor planned to follow him anyways. They’d been to this location before. He knew where Roman was going to be and knew where he could easily watch him from. Fifteen minutes of just waiting in a car was too damn long. But as Victor got out, he suddenly started to follow Roman rather than going to his usual perch.

Was it time for another attempt? Victor had wondered if one would occur again. He’d kind of expected it to happen sooner. However, killing all of Sofia Falcone’s hitmen had probably put a damper in her next move.

Now the tactics seemed to have changed a little. Victor looked around and tried to find anyone else, but no. Just one this time. They’d learned from their mistakes. Just one person that could have easily blended in with everything else. A businessman like the hundreds of others walking around in this area. If Victor had been looking away, hadn’t left the car at the right moment, he might have missed him.

Victor couldn’t even see a gun, the suit style probably a purposeful choice to hide those lines.

The only reason Victor knew to follow was because he’d caught sight of something that couldn’t be changed. The eyes. They had given Victor all the information he’d needed as they refused to leave the back of Roman’s head like a target.

Victor started to close the gap between himself and the hitman. His eyes tried to find the security detail, but they weren’t anywhere in Victor’s line of sight. Fucking useless anyways. They hadn’t helped before. Victor doubted they would have been any help now.

They started to go up the stairs and into the building. The man’s pace quickened. He reached into his jacket as he grew closer to Roman.

Victor reached around the man and grabbed the wrist. He twisted it and the gun went scattering across the floor.

People turned around, screaming and jumping back as Victor took the man to his knees. The man yelled something that sounded like, “You weren’t supposed to be here,” before ramming an elbow into Victor and managing to pull him over his shoulder. Victor took advantage of the motion though, rolling back onto his feet and now between the would-be assassin and Roman. Victor glanced towards the gun. It was too far to just grab, and he didn’t want to leave Roman open. He would go for it if the guy went for it, but it looked like the man had other plans.

The guy reached inside his jacket again and flicked out a switchblade.

Victor just grinned. He pulled out a knife of his own. “You want to dance? Let’s dance.”

They both came in close. The man made a large swipe with the blade. Victor dodged backwards before slipping back in. The fight turned out to not be as long winded or as interesting as Victor would have hoped, but it was fun nonetheless. It finally ended with the man dropping his knife and Victor stabbing him in his gut. Victor wrenched the knife upwards before pulling it out and letting the man fall to the floor.

Though he’d determined there was only one, Victor looked around just to make sure. All he saw was terrified civilians though, so he just wiped his knife and put it away. He turned to Roman. The look in Roman’s eyes practically lit Victor on fire. They both walked to each other, the only people acting casually in the lobby like it was just a normal Tuesday.

Victor glanced down at his shirt. So much for trying to keep it in good condition. “Sorry.”

Roman laughed. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

Of course Roman would. Victor looked to the dying man. He would bleed out before the EMTs arrived. He’d already passed out. “You know, he said something. Something like how I wasn’t supposed to be here.”

Roman shrugged. “What? Thinking Sofia Falcone had me followed? No, you would have noticed something by now.”

“True.”

“She probably heard something from someone who heard it from someone else. In the right circles, it’s not difficult to find what businesses I usually frequent and just one question would have to be asked to know if you ever followed me inside.”

Also fair. Roman was probably right, though Victor didn’t like the idea of anyone knowing when he wasn’t right at Roman’s side.

“Look on the bright side. The meeting I was supposed to attend will definitely be cancelled, we’ll deal with the police, and then we can go to dinner instead.”

“Works for me. I have already killed six people today.” He looked over and watched as the hitman breathed his last breath. “Well seven now. I’m hungry.”

Roman laughed, drawing him into a kiss as the police finally got there.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long. Victor’s skin was only slightly uncomfortable by the time they were in the car and he was free to take out his knife again. He let out a long, satisfied sigh as the blade sunk into his arm. Roman watched him without saying anything, letting him grow comfortable and satisfied with how deep the mark was before finally driving away.

They went straight to dinner meaning Victor was still covered in red. Everyone avoided their table and people prematurely left as Victor’s shirt turned stiff from the blood. He would throw it away when he got back to his apartment, but for now he just enjoyed the meal and Roman’s company.

Afterwards, they headed back to the club. Tonight it was closed for more invasive remodeling going on and Roman also made the call to finally get rid of the sign outside. He sent a commission in for the designing of a new sign and was doing a bit more work before Victor was finally just too distracting.

When Victor touched him again, Roman didn’t fight it.

“So god damn needy.”

“Like you don’t love it.” Victor only moved away to lock the office door. Then he was climbing back into Roman’s lap, lips pushing his open and deepening the kiss. He could feel Roman pulling his hips in closer as Victor moaned into his mouth. Victor grinded his hips against Roman as one of Roman’s hands started to move. He found the fresh scars on Victor’s midsection and pushed. The air left Victor’s lungs as the blood rushed down.

“Well isn’t that new.”

Victor kissed him again and whispered against his lips, “Do it again.”

Roman didn’t hold anything back. A sharp sting of pain shot through Victor as he wished there was a bed somewhere to just fucking throw Roman against. He made do with what he could though, the pain and pleasure mixing to beautiful new levels.

Sadly, it had to end though as it did every night. Hopefully once out of his parents grasp and with a place of his own, there would be more long nights of fucking each other senseless and bright mornings filled with waking touches and tangled limbs.

For now though, Victor could only drive Roman back to the estate. He stopped by the doors and Roman started to get out—

“Don’t forget to pick me up tomorrow at ten.”

“I won’t-wait. It’s Wednesday though.”

“I know. There’s too much work to be done at the club though, and I need to be there to make sure it’s done right.”

“Do your parents know you’re not going to be at the company?”

“They can deal with it. This is more important anyways. Tomorrow. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t,” Victor promised again. He watched Roman leave, heart warm at the implications. His parents would definitely catch on sooner with what he was doing. Roman had to know that. He had to know there would be consequences. However, he was starting to decide what was most important and that clearly didn’t include his parents’ limited life plan for him.

Victor was so close to breaking him free. He could barely wait.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a bit longer to get chapters out with everything going on, but still trying to keep it consistent. Hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for reading as always!
> 
> Also fun fact, Barsad is Bane's right hand man in the Dark Knight Rises. He's a small side character but I've always liked him so I just had to add him here.

Vicki’s idea turned out to be a successful one.

Several days later, Barsad came after being contacted about the job anonymously. He was older than Victor by almost ten years and clearly experienced from the information he laid out in front of Roman. Like Victor, he wasn’t a large man though with broader shoulders. He was relatively unassuming with bright blue eyes that gave off a feeling of a deep-rooted sadness.

Roman picked up on it too because he said, “It says non-voluntary discharge due to psychological conditions. You don’t have PTSD or some shit, right? I don’t need a man who’s going to suddenly lose it because of a loud fucking noise.”

“No. Irreconcilable differences with my new commanding officer.” Barsad was surprisingly soft spoken. Victor certainly wouldn’t have expected the impressive kill streak to be his. “And inability to control my anger.”

“Something to do with your former commanding officer being replaced?” Roman asked, remembering what Vicki had said.

“Discussion on Bane is off the table. I’ll answer anything, but he’s dead and buried. I’m moving past it.”

“So why take this? You don’t exactly strike me as someone who would willing work in…this line of work.”

“I’ve been missing structure. A reason to keep practicing my craft. The source promised you could give me that. It’s all I need right now.”

“Fair enough. Victor can be…very flexible at times though. Can you handle that?”

Barsad looked him over. “I take it you’re looking to hire someone like me because you don’t have someone to do the jobs it requires. But if you say Zsasz has the last word in something, then I’ll follow Zsasz.”

Straight to the point, simple, didn’t care about how young Roman was, and willing to follow Victor if necessary? It seemed Barsad would work out just fine. They didn’t talk much longer. The only other thing of note was that Barsad said if he wasn’t what Roman was looking for, he could give him the contacts to other ex-military or mercenary people that might fall more in line with what he needed. Barsad would do just fine, but Roman would certainly keep those connections in mind as he slowly grew his people.

Everything looked on the up. The club was reopened. The new sign was in the process of being made.

Then, two very important events occurred.

They were events that were going to have to happen sooner or later. The first was one that Victor knew would put a great deal of stress on Roman, at least immediately after it occured. Victor had already bought his own car in preparation for it thanks to the added salary from owning The Black Mask. Roman didn’t know yet, but that was only because Victor didn’t want to remind him of what was coming. However, Roman would have to acknowledge it soon. The break had to occur before Roman could fully be his own man.

And then it was time. Roman’s parents finally wanted to have ‘a talk’.

The main reason Victor knew of it was because Roman murmured the text out loud while in the car. It was late and they were already on the way to the estate. Roman stared at the message for a second longer before adding, “And they want you there.”

Victor glanced over. He carefully took in the apprehension in Roman’s form, the way his brow furrowed. “We knew this was going to happen.”

“I know.”

Victor wanted to say more. He wanted to try to assure Roman that no matter what, he would of course be there for him. He wanted to tell him that if he just let it happen, his parents wouldn’t have any fucking hold on him ever again. But he was pretty sure that would have just irritated Roman in the moment. Victor left him with his thoughts instead.

He continued to drive.

Once inside the gates and parked at the front, Victor turned off the car. He followed close behind. His head dipped down right before Roman opened the main doors. Lips gently pressed against the back of Roman’s neck. Victor heard the tired sigh that came with the action. It implied a sense of giving up. Roman wouldn’t fight it any longer. But he’d chosen to no longer fight the right thing, correct? He would finally just let himself be himself and not try to cling to the image his parents continually forced him into. Right?

At least Victor was going with him. He had faith in Roman, but if it looked like he was caving the other way, then Victor would be there.

The doors were opened and neither Mr. or Mrs. Sionis were just waiting there. Either they’d texted him exactly where they would be, or maybe Roman just knew from experience. His pace didn’t hesitate as he moved to a new section of the house. Another wide set of doors were opened into some kind of living room? Library? Or maybe it had some other fucking fancy name for it. Ideally, Victor would never have to see the room again, so who the fuck cared.

Mr. Sionis was sitting by an empty fireplace. Mrs. Sionis stood off to his side, a glass of wine in hand.

Victor stopped near the entrance as Roman’s pace faltered. His shoulders moved up and down before he started a slower approach.

Roman’s mother spoke first. “Did you really think we wouldn’t know?”

“I expected it.”

“Then you know you must shut it down,” Mrs. Sionis evenly replied. “I mean really, you don’t spend enough time as it is involving yourself in the family business. Now a club of all things? It’s ridiculous. Paltry.”

“It’s something that’s mine! For once, just mine—”

“You’re our son. Nothing is simply your own.”

Victor could tell Roman was pissed at being interrupted. He swallowed his anger though, almost whispering, “This is mine. It’s finally mine.”

“It’s not, and if you won’t throw away this fool hardy errand, then we’ll throw it away for you.”

Roman finally stopped in front of them. He looked at their faces before glancing away. “No.”

Victor’s chest swelled. Roman was so close. He just had to keep pushing. Don’t let them close you off. Don’t let them beat you back down.

Mr. Sionis finally stood up. Not much taller than Roman and yet there was still a sense he towered over him. “No?”

Roman’s repeated himself a little softer, but no less certain. “No.”

Mr. Sionis slapped him hard against the face.

Victor was over in a second. The only thing that stopped him was the back of Roman’s hand pressed to Victor’s chest. Roman didn’t say anything, but one glance told Victor to stop. He wanted to disobey. He wanted to whisper that he was sorry, but this had to be one of the few times he’d need to not follow Roman’s orders. No one got to hit him. Victor would never let anyone hit him, even his own fucking parents.

But before Victor could do more, could act, Roman was speaking again. His hand fell back to his side, clenched in a tight fist. “I’m not my own person under you.”

“Of course you’re not,” Mr. Sionis said. His voice didn’t get much louder. It somehow made it worse as he continued to talk down to his son. “The whole reason you were born was to carry on the work of this family. The idea that you even think you’re your own person is laughable.”

“We have been very lenient with you Roman,” began Mrs. Sionis. She sipped her wine before setting the glass down. “Too lenient. We hoped you would accept your role within this family, but you’re still insistent on fighting everything we do. From here on, we are are taking your stupid club and we are selling everything. You will be attending the office five days out of the week. Not one. And if you have a problem with this, we’ll send you back to Dr. Strange’s care for much longer than a weekend. As for Victor Zsasz, I think he’s provided too much of a distraction. Affective or not in his skills,” Mrs. Sionis’ gaze finally fell on Victor as she started to speak to him. “Your employment with us is disbarred.”

“No.” Again, it was soft. Roman’s eyes were cast down, but he was still standing his ground. He wasn’t allowing them to push back.

“You don’t get to say no to me,” hissed Mrs. Sionis. Any sense of motherly affection she usually faked was completely gone. “I am telling you what will happen.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not doing it, and you can’t take away the work I’ve done so far.” Roman’s voice slowly started to rise. It grew a little stronger. “It’s not even in my name.”

That seemed to surprise them both, though Mrs. Sionis was more expressive with her shock. Mr. Sionis’ eyes hardened. He said, “You’re making a dangerous choice Roman. You’re not thinking about the implications this could have on the family name.”

“Fuck the family name,” Roman growled. The anger finally started to boil over. The softness was gone as he yelled. “It’s my name. My name! I’ll have it associated with what I want! With me!”

Mr. Sionis tried to hit him again. Roman instinctually flinched back. This time, Victor was close enough that he grabbed the arm. It was oh so tempting to slip out a knife and just stab the old man in the fucking throat. He wanted to, but Mr. Sionis sadly didn’t push and Roman again touched Victor, signaling him not to do anything. Mr. Sionis pulled his hand away and carefully folded his arms behind his back. He glanced to his wife. “I think a different kind of punishment is in order.”

Mrs. Sionis gave a slight, dainty nod. “I agree. If you think you’re so independent, then leave. Your accounts will be closed. Your name withdrawn from any personal or business-related benefits under our family name. There will be no more added security detail. No added protection. You will have nothing but the clothes on your back and any cash that is in your wallet. You will not go up to your room. You will not take anything. You can leave in the car, but if it’s not left at the gates by the day after tomorrow, it will be reported stolen. You will have nothing from us. You will get nothing from us until you finally crawl back, admit you were wrong, and continue your place as the Sionis heir as you are expected. Is that understood?”

Roman’s entire body was one tense ball. He closed his eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Sionis gave each other a satisfied smile, like they believed they’d talked him into a corner. They believed he would cave.

Instead, Roman murmured, “You never really gave me anything anyways, so fine by me. Victor, we’re leaving.”

Mrs. Sionis bristled. “This is possibly the stupidest decision you’ve ever made. You’ll realize that when you come crawling back. I expect a proper apology when you do.”

“You’ll be waiting a long fucking time then.”

Roman walked away. Victor followed closely on his heels. He was so immensely proud of Roman. But he didn’t say anything right away. Roman was thinking. He’d put his own contingencies in place. He had some belongings at his office, but now nowhere to live. Victor would have offered his apartment, but he was sure Roman would have just made a face at the idea. He would have said yes if offered, but the realization of just how much he might have to change about himself would depress him. Instead, Victor offered the next best thing, even if it was temporary. He was the one that the profits of The Black Mask was going to after all.

“I’ll get you a hotel room for a few days. Just tell me which one to go to.”

Roman didn’t say anything right away. He got in the car and slammed the door. He covered his face in his hands and Victor just let him be. He went ahead and started driving. It took about fifteen minutes before Roman finally said the name of a hotel.

Victor pulled up the directions and changed course.

Once there, Victor got out alone, again just giving Roman a moment to himself. Victor got a room for five days. If it was needed for longer, then Victor would put down some more money for it. Ideally, Roman would be able to come up with some solution by that point. At least a goal to work towards.

With the key cards in hand, he went back to the car and got Roman. Victor was actually planning to go ahead and get rid of the car. If the parents wanted it back that fucking badly, they could have it. He would get the other one. He could also go ahead and grab some of Roman’s clothes in his office, toiletries, anything else he needed. But when he made it clear he was going to get back in the car, Roman grabbed his wrist.

“I want you to stay tonight.”

“Alright.”

Victor didn’t have to be told twice. If this was what Roman wanted, what he needed right now, Victor would do it. He would deal with everything else tomorrow.

They went back into the hotel together, up to the fifteenth floor, and then into the room. Part of Victor expected Roman to be sullen. Maybe he would slam the bathroom door and take a shower. Maybe he would just collapse on the bed and not move for the rest of the night. Maybe he would fully express his anger and break a lamp.

Victor was ready for whatever mood Roman would be in and he would handle it. Whatever Roman needed.

So when Roman grabbed Victor by his shirt and pushed him against the wall, Victor was a bit surprised. It wasn’t on the top of his list of expected reactions. But he was ready for that too. He opened his mouth willingly, letting Roman guide the deepening kiss. Victor wrapped his arms around him and held him close. When Roman pulled back, Victor followed for one more quick kiss before moving to hold Roman’s face.

“Are you ok?”

“No. Yes.” Roman kissed him again. “I wouldn’t be here if not for you.”

“You would have made it. You would have realized you could break away, figured out how. I’m happy to be with you though.”

“There is still so much shit I need to figure out,” growled Roman. He pulled Victor’s hands down so he could get closer. He rested his forehead against Victor’s. “I can’t risk getting anything directly in my name because they would try and fucking take it again. They’ll make it as difficult as possible. Just because they can. Because they don’t really believe I’ll never go back to them.”

“They’ll figure it out soon enough. Until then, you’ve got me. Everything can go through me. You’ll find a place and we’ll find a way.”

Roman managed a small smile. He pulled Victor into another kiss before dragging him back towards the bed. Finally, after so long of just quick, stolen moments whenever they were possible, Victor finally got to lay next to Roman again with nothing but skin between them.

In the morning, Roman predictably complained about having to wear the same clothes again. At least the hotel gave him the ability to take a shower and there were the clothes and other items he’d left in the office that he could move to the hotel tonight. Victor drove him to the club and promised he would be back soon when he made it clear he wasn’t following Roman. The car needed to be dealt with anyways, and this way, Roman wouldn’t have to go back and see that fucking estate.

Roman shot him a thankful look before heading into work.

Victor went ahead and did what he’d planned to do the night before. He got the other car, his own car, and paid to have the Sionis’ car towed back to their house. It was tempting to set the thing on fire just to give one last middle finger to them, but he was trying to help Roman. No need to give his parents some ammunition to either send the police after him or even Victor. Even a short stent in a jailcell, away from Roman, would have been too much.

With it taken care of though, he went back to the club and a new pattern started.

Roman was appreciative that Victor had the forethought to get his own car, though at least for the next week, it wasn’t greatly needed. Roman gave all his attention to his work now that he had nothing else to distract him, along with trying to figure out where the hell he would live.

Victor slept with him nearly every night at the hotel. Only once did Roman want to be alone and Victor simply picked him up in the morning.

Several more days were paid for the hotel room, but after a week, a solution to Roman’s problem finally came as he went over the upper level to the club again. He’d momentarily thought about expanding the club area up there, but it would have split everything in a way that just didn’t appeal to him. But the space needed to be used for something.

As they walked around the now empty space, Victor looked over some of the blueprints and said, “You know, with how the plumbing is set up, you could easily put a bathroom up here. A shower or tub.”

Roman hummed softly to himself. He walked towards the windows, leaning against them as he looked into the back alley.

“What if you lived where you worked?”

“You’re just full of ideas. Aren’t you?”

Victor shrugged. “It would give you the ability to do what you want. Take out that wall there. Add in another there. And then you would never be far from work if something needed to happen right away, to change.”

“I do like it…but it would take a while,” admitted Roman. His brow furrowed as he thought over Victor’s idea. It was certainly something and meant the long, annoying act of apartment hunting wouldn’t have to be dealt with. “Follow me.”

They went back downstairs and to the office. Roman flipped through some things before crossing his arms. He looked from his desk and then back up to Victor. He repeated the motion twice more. Then he said, “I’m not living in your apartment.”

“I didn’t realize that was on the table,” snorted Victor.

“It isn’t. Still isn’t. But I need to be smart financially with this place being our only income. And with that in mind…here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to sell, or rent out, or just whatever you need to do to get rid of that apartment of yours. You’ll stay with me at the hotel until construction on the upper floor is done. We can put those newly freed up expenses towards getting the upstairs finished as quickly as possible.”

“And what about afterwards?”

“You’ll stay. Obviously.” The last word was whispered as Roman looked away.

“Obviously?”

“Of course it’s fucking obvious. Where else would I have you go? And with the security detail of my parents’ gone, not that they ever fucking did anything anyways, having you by my side almost permanently is important.”

“And that’s the only reason?”

“Oh, fucking come off it Victor. You know it’s not.” Roman let out a shuddering breath. His shoulders dropped just a little. “If all of this came crashing on me tomorrow, I know I could figure a way out of it. I know I could keep from going back to my fucking parents like they expect of me. But only with you at my side. I won’t ever have you leaving my side now that they’re not breathing down my fucking neck. Understood?”

Victor smiled as he moved around the desk. “You would figure something out. You’re so much stronger than them, but I understand. I’ll have to be taken away in a fucking body bag to be removed from you.”

“As long as we’re on the same page,” Roman said with a satisfied sigh. He took Victor’s face in his hands, pulling out another long, slow kiss before he whispered against Victor’s lips. “You were the first thing that felt like it was mine. I’d have to die before letting you leave my grasp.”

“I think that technically makes it a suicide pack,” chuckled Victor. “Which I am perfectly happy to follow. I don’t think I could go back to living in a world without you anyways.”

“Me either,” Roman admitted. They kissed again, and this time, when Victor pulled away, it was only to make sure the door was securely locked.

In the coming days, both Roman and Victor acted quickly.

After only having the new apartment for a few months, Victor successfully got out of the new lease. He only needed to pull out his knife once too. What few belongings he had got packed up and taken away in only a few hours. All clothes and bathroom shit went to the hotel room. His collection of tools and knives that he didn’t constantly keep on his person went to the club where they could be safely put away. What few personal affects that wouldn’t fall into the previous categories also got thrown into some storage room at the club.

Roman sped through the process of contacting the construction people necessary for making the upper area into a living space. He could worry about aesthetic and looks when everything was more stable. Once he could actually put a bed up there and had his own shower, the rest would easily fall into place.

What could have been a far more difficult transition was made easier with the new goal in mind, and with the fact that Victor rarely ever had to leave Roman’s side now.

The club was on the up again. The plans were starting to move smoothly once more. Another few days passed and soon the upstairs would be ready to move into. Mr. and Mrs. Sionis hadn’t contacted Roman either, probably still thinking Roman would come crawling back or maybe even giving up on any attempt to reach their son. Either way, they weren’t trying to, or were unable to, fuck with them for the moment.

And then the second big event finally came that they all knew would have to occur.

Vicki was there on the day of. The club was up and running, though it wasn’t a weekend so it wasn’t as busy as it could be. The idea that The Black Mask was named after the mysterious woman that was occasionally seen walking the floor added to the mystery and intrigue, though only one man had ever been stupid enough to approach her.

Roman had been hosting earlier, getting in good graces with those that were becoming regulars and also berating the talent after her voice had fucking cracked. He’d gotten someone to replace her before going to take a break in the office, Victor by his side as always. Victor rubbed Roman’s shoulders as he complained out loud about the current entertainment, talking through his ideas and plans on who to fire and who to move to the weekends. Victor just listened, acting as a soundboard for Roman to bounce ideas off of when the door opened.

The Black Mask stared back at them as she said, “Barsad just told me Carmine Falcone walked in.”

Well, they had predicted it would eventually happen. They were in his territory.

“Alone?” asked Roman.

“Yes.”

“He probably has someone already planted inside. Or waiting outside,” said Victor. They wouldn’t have been able to get a weapon in though with Barsad at the door.

“Probably,” agreed Roman. “Did he ask for anything in particular?”

“To see you. Privately,” Vicki said.

“Send him back.”

“Do you think that’s wise?”

“The fact that he’s here at all shows that he’s decided it’s worth his time. If he was just going to kill me and take the territory back, he would have already tried,” Roman replied. “Send him back.”

“Right away.”

She left quickly. Victor asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

Roman thought about it for a second. “A tricky decision…” He had to be thinking about what Falcone would expect. What could be seen as weakness or disrespectful? Finally, he said, “If he asks to truly speak alone, I’ll send you out of the room. Until then, you’re my partner in everything. You deserve to be here.”

Victor nodded. He leaned down, giving Roman a chaste kiss before stepping back. A few seconds later, the Black Mask opened the door again Falcone stepped in. He lowered his hat and held it in front of his gray, pinstriped suit. Roman quickly stood as the door closed again, leaving the three of them alone.

“You do know when to use manners then,” Falcone said. Whereas others might have said the same words as an insult, from Falcone, it sounded like only a simple observation.

“I can when it matters,” Roman evenly replied. He offered his hand. Falcone lightly smiled, seeming to appreciate the gesture though it was difficult to tell with such a man. Falcone switched his hat to one hand as they shook. Roman asked, “Should I be offering you a seat, or will you be telling me this won’t take long?”

“A seat is appreciated,” Falcone said. He sat first, his hat resting in his lap.

Roman followed, and Victor stayed standing right behind him. “Anything to drink?”

“It shouldn’t take that long.” Still all pleasantries. Still an almost fatherly demeanor. “But I will tell you this much. There is a matter of great importance I have come to talk with you about. Assuming this meeting goes smoothly, then there is a second, shorter piece of information that I will impart on you. I would like this meeting to go smoothly. Would you?”

“I would.”

“Good. At least we’re starting on the same page. To begin…”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a really fun one to write! I hope you enjoy <3

Unsurprisingly, the former owner of The Stacked Deck, Bill Smitrovich, was the first topic brought up by Falcone.

“I must say, it was surprising to hear Bill and his family had skipped town. I knew he was always a coward, but I never expected him to go to such lengths.”

Falcone paused and Roman quickly jumped in with, “If you thought so lowly of him, why not get rid of him earlier?”

The old man laughed, the sound warm and again giving off that feeling of a fatherly figure. The interesting thing was that it didn’t feel like a false face. He was fatherly, but it felt more like a facet of his entire role as the head of a family and the mob, not just a wholly different part. Falcone’s voice didn’t change much either. There didn’t seem to be a threat hidden behind any of his words despite how carefully Victor was looking for them. He sounded far more honest than most criminals, though perhaps that was because he could afford it.

He said, “I sometimes forget how quick the young are to take action over any other choice. Bill was a family friend. There was history, honor there. If his children had been older, I might have gone to them. Brought them into the fold, but alas, Bill was what I had to work with. He was a far cry from the man his father had been. From what his father built. It was a sad day when I realized he wouldn’t be able to even fill out his father’s shadow. But he was a friend. One that you got rid of.”

Victor almost spoke up. It was again difficult to tell if the words were a threat or not. But he felt it important to state exactly who had put all this into motion.

Before he could speak though, Roman simply said, “I did.” Victor faltered over his own words, barely making a sound. He couldn’t just disregard Roman’s statement, especially in front of Falcone. But should he let Roman take complete responsibility? Which was the smarter option? Which did more good than harm? But as he tried to figure out whether to speak up or not, Falcone had caught onto his uncertainty. It also became clear that he’d done his own research before coming to meet with them.

“No need to look so torn,” Falcone said with a warm chuckle. Roman glanced over his shoulder at Victor as Falcone started to talk to him. “I already know the deed is in your name Mr. Zsasz. I know it was you who initiated the conversation with Bill and threatened his family. But I appreciate your want to protect your boss. I assume that’s what that look was about. Thinking the truth might protect him if I decided to retaliate. And you—” He looked to Roman. “—I appreciate you taking the responsibility. A man in a position of power must remember he is responsible for those that work beneath him, the good and the bad.”

Falcone paused to look back at Victor again. “That being said, you are beginning to develop quite a reputation in Gotham, Mr. Zsasz. I had my people look into your movements before you arrived here. Would you say that leaving a trail of bodies behind you is an accurate description of your life thus far?”

“Yes.” Victor kept his voice calm and even. There was of course an instinct to gloat, but he felt that Falcone wasn’t one to appreciate such an attitude.

That seemed right as Falcone replied, “I abhor cruelty, I’ll have you both know. If a situation can be talked out, I much more prefer it. But I won’t discount the use of cruelty, nor those skilled enough to make an art out of it. With that in mind, I don’t see any reason to ask you to change how you operate. What’s your business is your business. But I ask that when the work is designated by me, you do it smoothly and you do it by the book. I’m not interested in causing unnecessary fights between territories or other partners.”

Roman finally spoke again. “Then this is a business proposition.”

“Yes. You are in my territory after all. Or does it surprise you I came knocking on your door?”

“No. If I’m being honest, I’d hoped for this. Victor here specifically chose the location in part due to the failures of Smitrovich, seeing that there could be an opening, but also because it would most likely put us in direct contact with you. After all, nothing gets done in this city without your say-so.”

“An astute observation. And good forethought. I appreciate that this was a plan, albeit a risky one considering you didn’t know how I would react.”

“It was a risk worth taking. Either that, or I would have had to leave Gotham to start over.”

“Very true. It’s admirable you’re trying to strike out on your own. I take it your parents are not in support considering the deed was put under Mr. Zsasz’s name.”

Roman’s attempts at remaining cool and professional broke just a little. A bit of the bite came through. “No.”

“I expected as much. Richard and Janis have always cast a very limited net in what they see as a success and realistic choice.”

“You tried to work with my parents?”

“I wouldn’t quite use those words. We had conversations. Thomas Wayne was a much more reasonable man. I’d wondered if his son might be able to take his father’s place once made aware of how his family grew to fruition. Alas, he first denounced the leaked stories, and once proven, has now attempted to distance himself from the history of his parents. Another shame, but it seems with the failures of others, a new addition has possibly fallen into my lap.”

“Possibly?” asked Roman.

“Well, we of course need to discuss business. How I would like things to run. To see your willingness to cooperate before I make a decision. But before we begin that, I’d like to discuss the matter of my youngest. It has not escaped my notice the continuing fights that have publicly occurred between the two of you.” Roman opened his mouth but Falcone held his hand up. “Please, let me finish first. I love my family. I love Sofia dearly. But I can acknowledge her own faults and that every argument must involve two people, not one. I am not here to appease whatever has transpired, but to simply ask you to avoid further physical confrontations if we are to work together. I have asked the same of my daughter. Understand that if this continues to happen, my disappoint will not solely reside on you.”

Roman waited a few seconds, like he was thinking it over. Victor imagined it was more to prevent himself from sounding to eager. Even with his hatred of Sofia, this was too good of an opportunity to simply pass up. “I think I can live with that.”

“I am glad to hear it. Now, to business.”

Everything started to get a little too technical for Victor’s enjoyment, but he made sure to not let his boredom show as he silently stayed behind Roman’s chair. Falcone talked about needing people to take over the gun shipments by the east river. Preferably, he would like someone to fully take over the process and laundering involved rather than delegating to the spare men as he he’d temporarily been forced to do. Schedules, expected numbers, the amount of men needed, all manner of things were discussed.

Falcone had said he wouldn’t stay long enough to require a drink, though by the end of it, Victor needed one. He supposed he should know what exactly they would be doing, but if it didn’t involve killing someone or talking about Roman, it didn’t immediately hold Victor’s interest.

The discussions did eventually end though as Falcone stood and Roman quickly followed. They shook hands again as Falcone said, “I’m glad to see this went well. That brings me to my second piece of information.” He set his hat on the desk so that he could button up his coat. “Now that we are business partners, I think it should be known I watch out for those who work for me. However, I expect that they have the ability to solve their own problems. To watch their own backs so to speak. Because of this, what I am about to tell you is a courtesy of this new partnership, but I expect you to show me that you are capable of handling your own quarrels. Personal matters should not affect our business going forward, and I expect you to prove that here. Simply put, I know my daughter. Putting a hit out on someone is not something that is beneath her more violent mood swings, but take note when I say, she never does anything without my knowledge or allowance.”

Roman’s brow furrowed. The wheels started turning. Victor stepped close to him. But if that was true…

“My daughter did not send those hitmen after you, despite what the rumors say. I suggest that if you want this partnership to be a lasting one, you figure out who tried to have you killed and fix it.” Roman didn’t immediately have a response to that. Falcone’s smile didn’t slip as he put his hat on and added, “I’m sure you both have much to discuss now. I’ll see my self out. Good night gentlemen.”

And with that, Carmine Falcone was gone.

As the door closed, Roman collapsed back in his chair, brow furrowed as he thought hard on Falcone’s final words.

Victor spoke first. “Do you think he was telling the truth?”

“Honestly? I believe what he said about his daughter more so than the proposition on gun shipments. Pass the details on to Barsad. I want him to look into it. Make sure it isn’t some trick to bring me down without Falcone getting his hands dirty. But if he was being honest with that…then he was definitely being honest about Sofia.” Roman turned silent again. Victor moved back behind him, hands on his shoulders and fingers digging in deep, consistent motions. “Who the fuck is trying to kill me then?”

“Well, who has the motives? The means?”

“Too many people. I do piss off a lot.”

Victor chuckled at that.

“I want you and Vicki to look into that. See if her connections with her day job can get information on the hitmen.”

“Want me to go talk to them now?”

“Hmm…yes. I need to go over some things. I’ll get you when I’m ready to go back to the hotel.”

“Alright. See you in a bit.”

Victor briefly kissed him before leaving his side and going back into the club. Falcone had talked for some time. The club was really winding down now with more staff being out as they wiped down tables and picked up empty glasses. The few patrons that were still there were at the bar. The talent was sitting on the edge of the stage, hers and her band’s set done for the night.

Victor walked straight to Vicki where he spotted her in a booth.

“I’d wondered if I should go back there when only Falcone walked out.”

“I could have easily taken that old man. He’s like a relic from the fifties.”

“Well obviously by yourself. But even with him appearing to be alone, it’s always hard to say how many people could be working for Falcone and just hiding in plain sight.”

“True enough.”

“But it went well?”

“Probably. I need to talk to Barsad before I leave tonight about some things. And you. Do you think you could pull some records on the men that tried to kill Roman?”

“Why?” Before Victor could answer, she said, “Falcone told you it wasn’t his daughter?”

“Yep.”

“He could be lying.”

“Could be. Roman doesn’t think he is though.”

“And you?”

“I…honestly kind of agree with him. I think lying about that would be considered not honorable or some shit, and Falcone struck me as the kind of guy who actually still gives a shit about those kinds of rules.”

“How many assassination attempts were there?”

“Two. Seven the first time, in a restaurant, and one in a business building.”

Vicki pulled out a pen and small notepad. “Do you remember the dates? It will make it easier to find what I need.”

Victor nodded. He told her everything, including the name of the restaurant and business building. He couldn’t remember the name of the officer on the scene of the second one, but he remembered the officer from the first.

“I’ll try to get something by tomorrow, but I promise I’ll have something by the day after.”

“Get in contact with me the moment you do,” Victor replied. “I need to talk to Barsad now. I’ll see you later.”

“Later, Victor.”

He got back up and went to the front door. Victor relayed the information from the meeting. Barsad asked only a few, technical questions. He said, “I’ll get to work tomorrow morning before I’m needed here. I can go ahead and ask around too. See who could be used for the job, temporarily or more long term.”

“Run it by Roman, but yeah. Go ahead and do that,” agreed Victor. As he said it, a drunkard stumbled by. It was unusual, as the club just wasn’t quite the atmosphere for someone to get shitfaced. It did happen though and Barsad let out a tired sigh, grabbing the man’s collar and ready to just throw him into the street. Victor held up his hand though. The thought just appeared, a bright shining light that wouldn’t disappear now. “He come in alone?”

“Yes.”

“Give me his wallet.”

Barsad did so. It seemed somewhat difficult to keep the drunk man standing but taking his wallet from him was easy. The man didn’t even notice.

Victor caught it and looked through it. No family photos, not that those would have really dissuaded Victor. It was more just to confirm that he wouldn’t be looked for as fervently as a family man might. It had been so long. With everything going on with Roman, he just hadn’t had time. But now that the opportunity was in front of him…

“I have to voice that killing customers isn’t the most effective way to keep a business running,” Barsad plainly said as he picked up on Victor’s changing mood.

“It’s just one. Not like I’m going to kill everyone who walks in.”

Seeing that Victor wasn’t dissuaded, Barsad just murmured, “It’s an addiction for you. Isn’t it?”

“Something like that, and one that Roman is happy to indulge. Now if you’re done, you did say you wouldn’t fight my decisions.”

Barsad let out a tired sigh but pushed the man over.

“Thank you,” grinned Victor.

The drunkard stumbled as Victor dragged him away. With extremely slurred words, the man managed to ask, “Are you helping me to my car?”

“Something like that,” laughed Victor.

He ended up knocking the man out. He could have slipped out a knife and slit his throat then and there. However, leaving a dead body so close to the club wouldn’t have been very smart. He bundled the man up instead and dumped his unconscious body into the trunk. Then he went back inside to grab some of the tools he would need. He had some rope in one hand and rolled up tarp under his other arm when he ran into Roman.

“I just finished. We can head back to the-Victor,” Roman practically purred as he stopped midsentence. “Did you kidnap someone?”

“He’s in the trunk.”

Roman softly laughed. “A patron?” He was able to read the answer on Victor’s face. “Now you can’t just go killing everyone who walks in these doors. How are we supposed to have any consistent clientele if everyone keeps disappearing and dying?”

“Funny, Barsad said the same thing.”

“He’s right, in this regard at least.”

“I’m not making this a habit. Promise,” Victor said. “It’s just been so long, and he looked like he could just squeal and squeal.”

“It has been a while,” murmured Roman. He moved in close, whispering against Victor’s lips, “Beg for it.”

“Please.”

“A little more heat.”

“Please,” Victor sighed. He pressed his lips against Roman’s. He begged again, a rawness coming out as he licked his lips at the blossoming ideas. He kissed Roman. “It won’t become a regular thing. Promise. Just this one, please.”

“Well when you ask so sweetly…” Roman drew his own kiss from Victor. He pulled back and said, “From here on out, I don’t want a patron killed without my permission. Understood?”

Victor nodded.

“Good. Then we can allow a small pass for this. But I want to come with you.”

Victor couldn’t help but brighten up. “Really?”

“Like you said, it’s been a while. And I have only seen you torture one person to death. If not for everything going on, I would have asked to see you do it sooner.”

“Then let’s have some fucking fun before the night is over,” grinned Victor.

They headed for the exit, Roman only pausing to talk to Barsad for a few seconds before they left for the car. Victor headed to an abandoned building. He checked that no vagrants were around before going back to the car and pulling out the drunk. Roman followed from a distance, watching with an appreciative smile and holding up the flashlight on his phone for Victor.

The drunkard was tied up and slouched over on the floor when Victor finally pulled out a knife. He woke the man up with a few pokes. The level of alcohol in his system dulled some of his senses. He was in pain, but it was taking a while for his mind to catch up with each slice and he still didn’t realize he was dying yet. Victor liked a struggle, but he could appreciate this moment as he got to get creative with a participant that was unable to fully fight back.

When the final cut came, it was like a muscle that he hadn’t realized was tensed had finally loosened with the spilling of blood. It was honestly impressive how long he’d been able to go without this. Not even thinking about it until tonight.

It just went to show how wrapped up in Roman he’d become. If he had to choose between Roman and a kill, he really would have chosen Roman. But god did it feel good to let loose again. For this one, he dragged the knife from the edge of his bottom lip to his chin.

“Beautiful,” whispered Roman.

Victor smiled. “Want me to take you to the hotel? I’ll come back and clean this up.”

“It’s fine. I’m happy to wait.”

“I’ll try to make this quick then.”

Victor went to work disposing of the body. He was reminded that this was the first time Roman had been here for this step. He made a few disgusted comments at just how much fluid a human body could hold. It made Victor laugh as he sliced away and finished up. They got back to the hotel in the early morning, Roman letting out a long yawn as he changed for bed. Victor went to make sure the curtains completely covered the windows so the sun wouldn’t disturb them in a couple of hours.

“I can’t wait until the bare bones are finished with the upstairs. The décor of this place has been making my eyes bleed for the past week.”

“You picked the hotel,” chuckled Victor.

“Doesn’t excuse their poor choice in aesthetic.”

Roman finished changing and Victor put a bandage over his new tally so as not to get blood on Roman. Once ready, he slipped in close and enveloped Roman in his arms. “If it really wasn’t Sofia, I’ll figure out who tried to have you killed.”

“I know you will. Could be two different people as well.”

“You think?”

“Hmm, probably not. Both attempts were different, but they also happened too close to each other. It would be too much of a coincidence if two different people tried to have me killed in such a short amount of time.”

“Maybe. I’ll figure it out either way. Vicki said she would have some information for me by tomorrow at the latest.”

“Good. I’m glad I have her. Those other talents of hers will hopefully prove fruitful in this.”

Victor nodded in agreement. He pushed his nose against Roman’s neck and wrapped one leg over Roman so that he was partially on top of him. He would have done more, but that had been a very nice, in depth kill and dismemberment. He just wanted to rest for now and thankfully, Roman seemed in agreement.

They fell asleep and woke up just after noon.

The day proved mostly normal. Roman went over some potential candidates with Barsad in the afternoon and also listened in on what Barsad had discovered. So far, it seemed that Falcone’s job was legitimate. Once completed, Roman would really be in the thick of it. There would be no turning back. He would officially be a part of the mob and on his way to moving up and up.

As for Vicki’s job, she called Victor early the next morning. Roman grumbled at being woken up so early, but upon hearing it was Vicki with information, he said, “Take the car. I’ll catch a taxi to the club.”

“Alright. See you in a few.”

Victor threw on some clothes and kissed Roman goodbye before heading to the lobby and out to the car. Victor drove to the office of the _Gotham Gazette_ and headed to one of the back alleys as instructed. Vicki was waiting for him. She pulled a messenger bag around and quickly took out ten folders stuffed with files.

“Here, copies of each would-be assassin’s police records along with the crime scene report for both attacks. I don’t think you’ll find much in those, but maybe you could track down former employers of the hitmen.”

“I’ll contact you if I need more.”

“Sounds good. I have to get back to work or else I’d help you comb through them. I’ll see you later Victor.”

“Tonight?”

“Not tonight. I have a draft due. Probably tomorrow though.”

“Until then.”

They parted ways, Vicki going back into the building while Victor headed back to his car. He knew going to the club and being around Roman would have distracted him, so he went for coffee instead. He brought the files in with him and found a small corner to start going through them. He went over the crime scene reports first and like Vicki suggested, there wasn’t much there. Victor had been the one to kill them after all. He already knew what kind of gun had been used, where his knife had hit and how the blood had sprayed. He set those aside and started to look at the records of the hitmen.

As with any good hitman, there were few crimes directly associated with them. There were tags for crimes they could have committed. Known associates. But it looked like a lot more detective work would have to be done before Victor could figure out who had hired them. Two of the men had known connections with the mob in Gotham, but apparently the one that had tried to attack Roman by himself was associated with the Russian mob in New York.

That at least partially supported Falcone’s statement. A hitman for the Russian mob sure as shit wouldn’t work for Falcone or his daughter. So maybe there were two different contracts.

Maybe the first had been from Sofia.

The second someone else?

Or maybe both hits were paid for by the same person, and that person had simply cast the widest net in the hopes it would work, hence why the hitmen were associated with various groups rather than just one.

Victor let out a tired sigh and bundled everything back up once he’d finished his cup of coffee. He would go back to the club for now, tell Roman what he had found, and then probably get Vicki’s help tomorrow. He wanted to figure out who the hell had tried to kill Roman, and preferably before they tried a third time.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to add a few more chapters. Also, I apologize for nothing. Enjoy!

Despite Barsad being in charge of the gun shipment, Victor went to the location on the scheduled night. He watched from the shadows, silent and twirling a knife in preparation. Roman hadn’t asked him to do it. However, Victor had wanted to make sure everything moved as planned. If Barsad got fucked over, then by proxy, so did Roman. Of course, if Roman had decided Barsad needed to go, Victor could kill him tomorrow. No trouble at all. But as long as Barsad was needed and employed by Roman, that meant his well-being mattered to Victor. Once Roman no longer cared, then Victor would no longer care either.

But for now, he watched Barsad’s back.

Thankfully, the passing of the shipment went smoothly. If Barsad noticed Victor’s presence on that night, he never said anything.

With Falcone’s first task successfully done, it seemed Victor’s original plan to take The Stacked Deck had proven the right choice. Roman had a nice section of the mob carved out for himself. It was enough for him to grow on his own, to become more. All the while, they would stick to Falcone’s good side, but maybe, just one day…

The fact that Roman could work towards that if he wished made Victor’s heart soar. It was what he’d wanted since almost day one. He’d wanted Roman to be able to grow into himself, to be feared in a way he deserved. Whether or not Roman’s parents decided to cause trouble again remained to be seen. They could undoubtably cause a few bumps in the near future, but only that. Bumps. Roman would never allow himself to fall back into their grasp.

And if that had been it, then Victor could relax and everything would be perfect.

But he still had the assassination attempts to deal with.

With a life like this, assassination attempts had to be accepted as a natural danger of the job. But these attempts had occurred before Roman had found his footing. They didn’t have anything to do with his new job. But they weren’t random either. There had been hitmen hired for this. But why?

As Roman and Barsad handled the tasks that started to be handed out by Falcone and incorporated the illegal business with the legal, Victor worked with Vicki.

Her job allowed her access to many things that Victor would have had to break into to obtain. Or at the very least, her job allowed her to get close enough to information that she could stealthily take a look at without getting noticed. However, the more information that was discovered on the individual hitmen, the more Victor was confused.

The two that had been associated with the local mob hadn’t worked for Falcone. They’d never even gotten close to him. It made the idea that Sofia had put out only the first hit even less likely. But then who the hell hired them? Why all these people with practically no connections? Was it done to purposefully muddy the waters? Was that a sign that the person or persons was knowledgeable in the criminal underworld? Knew what they were doing? Or was it the opposite? Had they just reached out for anything and anyone? Or maybe the person behind all this had hired only one person, a middleman who knew what they were doing, and it had been the middleman that had hired the hitmen. That would be incredibly annoying. If there was a middleman to be found, then that meant even more work before discovering who the hell wanted Roman dead.

It was really fucking frustrating and Roman was starting to pick up on it.

As they lay in bed one late night that had become an early morning, Roman poked him in the forehead. Victor batted the hand away. “You’re going to prematurely get wrinkles if you keep looking like this every night.”

“I just hate not knowing,” grumbled Victor. He glanced over and noted the curtains hadn’t been fully closed. He got up to do that so the early morning sun wouldn’t wake them.

By then, they’d moved into the upper level of the club. There was still some remodeling that was done during the day while Roman and Victor were working. However, the bathroom was done, they at least had a table, a personal kitchen area, and they had a bed. Victor was sure that Roman had a whole setup already planned in his head. Places to put paintings and sculptures and questionable art pieces. More furniture and extravagant rugs, choosing a place to put a full body mirror so he could preen himself before leaving for the day. Yes, there was still a lot to do. But it was home for now, and Victor wouldn’t have it any other way. He just wished he already knew who was trying to kill Roman so he could neutralize them and move on.

Victor closed the curtains fully.

“I must admit, there comes some sick satisfaction from watching you worry,” Roman said with a long yawn.

“Well it won’t be around much longer. I promise you that. I’ll find the fucker and slit their god damn throat for you.”

“It could just be some dick I poured a drink over or some tramp I insulted in front of her date.”

“Do you really think someone would go to this much trouble over something that petty?”

“I would. Wouldn’t you?”

“I’m not talking about us. I’m talking about normal people,” Victor replied as he walked back. He slipped under the covers and moved so he was lying on top of Roman. He folded his arms and rested his chin there. “You know the ones. The kind that don’t get off on maiming and killing.”

“Oh, those dreadfully fucking dull wretches. I’d forgotten they still existed.”

Victor laughed. He pushed himself up so his lips could meet Roman’s. At least being in the moment eased the tension in his shoulders. One hand moved down, finding Roman’s hip and then moving—

Victor got slapped hard. It was a reaction Roman was getting more used to doing, both in private and public moments. It didn’t bother Victor though. If anything, the sudden sting or shock to the skin just sent a pleasurable thrill through him. He dipped down to steal another kiss before Roman pushed him back.

“We just took a shower.”

“So?”

“I am not about to take another one. Or risk ruining these sheets.”

Victor kissed him again. “Any chance I could tempt you anyways?”

“No!”

Victor laughed. Sometimes he could really get Roman going and it was only afterwards that he complained about sweat covered sheets and needing to change them before going to bed. Tonight seemed to not be one of those times. Though to be fair, Roman had fucked him pretty vigorously in the shower only an hour ago. Victor just fell on kissing him again. He shifted a little and then rolled his hips—

“I have a fucking meeting in the morning!” Roman yelled as he knocked Victor upside the head. Behind the anger was a certain level of amusement though that Roman was trying not to show. “If you’re so fucking horny, go jack off in the bathroom.”

Victor whined but collapsed against Roman’s side, wrapping himself around his body. “Fine,” he sighed. “Though maybe if your goal is to turn me off, don’t hit me, yeah?”

Roman laughed so hard it actually turned into a snort which just made Victor burst into laughter too. Roman hit him again before kissing him and murmuring, “You really are quite into that.”

“I cut tallies into my skin. Is it really that surprising?”

“I suppose not,” Roman chuckled. “But go to bed. I still have that fucking meeting.”

“I yield,” replied Victor. He gave one last kiss and then curled in close.

At least like this, he didn’t have to worry about the assassination attempt. The planning of the second one had suggested they hadn’t wanted Victor around. It could mean they understood that as long as he was alive, he sure as shit wasn’t going to let anything happen to Roman.

There was one more kiss that turned a little heated before Roman finally pulled away, reminding him of the meeting for the third time. Victor just curled in close and managed to fall asleep.

In the morning, Victor got a little more action as he got up first. He woke Roman up with constant, stroking motions and then kissed his neck as his eyes fluttered open. Roman sighed into it, this time pulling Victor closer.

“Alright, you convinced me.”

“Good. I wasn’t planning on letting you go anyways.”

Roman hit him for the hell of it and Victor practically purred before moving his lips down Roman’s body.

Afterwards, Roman made Victor take the sheets to be cleaned as he got dressed for the day. Victor didn’t have much to do so he stuck around until it was almost Vicki’s lunchbreak. He kissed Roman before going, promising he’d be back soon. Technically, he could have just texted or called Vicki to see if she’d gotten any more information. He liked talking to her in person though. It felt like they could converse more and figure things out better, though whether that was true or not was hard to tell.

Still, Victor met Vicki in the parking garage used by the _Gotham Gazette_. She was parked on the highest level, sitting cross-legged on the hood of her car as she ate. Victor parked nearby and walked over.

“Anything?”

“Nope.”

“Fuck. I was afraid you would say that.”

“Yeah, we may need to get lucky before we can track down who hired these people. If they were still alive, we could question them.”

“Hey, they were trying to kill Roman. And at the time, we just assumed it was fucking Sofia-wait! I’m just now remembering one said ‘she’ before he died. So whoever is behind this is a woman.”

“Or one of them is a woman. Or maybe he was told to use those pronouns to purposefully get you thinking it was Sofia when really it’s some man. It still doesn’t exactly narrow down the options.”

“Fuck,” Victor growled again. She was right. He let out a tired sigh. As he leaned against her car, he pulled out his phone and started pulling up the files of the hitmen again. He’d taken pictures of everything so he didn’t have to constantly carry those folders around.

As he went through them, he stopped on the picture of one of the hitmen that he’d stopped on before. He murmured, “I still say this guy seems familiar, but I don’t fucking know how.”

Vicki glanced over to confirm it was the same picture Victor had looked at before. “He’s familiar because you killed him? He looks like someone you know? I don’t know Victor. But honestly, what would be the odds that you actually know him? We’ll have more luck continuing how we’ve been.”

“Maybe so, but it just won’t let up. I swear I’ve seen the man before.”

“Hell, maybe you have. He’s a fucking criminal. You gut people. Maybe you crossed paths at some point,” said Vicki. “Still doesn’t mean you know him.”

She was right, but she had said something new this time. They could have just passed each other one day. Maybe the man’s face had just happened to be unique enough to cause some flicker of recognition from that brief encounter, but where could he have seen him then? If what Vicki suggested was true, then Victor doubted it was on some street corner. Unless it had been a day when Victor had purposefully been looking for a victim. Then he might have been staring at people a little more intently than normal. But that didn’t exactly fucking help him. Maybe the guy had been a regular at some shitty fast food place Victor used to frequent? Where else was Victor more likely to notice people? Lounge around and maybe stare a bit? Maybe the guy had been a regular at the same—

It clicked.

“O’Malley’s!”

“That little bar? Isn’t that where you had us meet the first time?”

Victor nodded. “Used to go there all the time when I lived closer. But I fucking told you I’d seen this guy before! He went to O’Malley’s.”

“Was he a regular?”

“Not sure. I know he went more than once though. And hey, it’s the best fucking lead we got.” Victor pushed himself off the car. He put his phone away and said, “I’ll call you if I find anything out. If I don’t…fuck it. I’ll see you later I guess, but it’s worth a shot.”

Vicki nodded in agreement. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Victor quickly went back to his car, hopped in, and finally went back to O’Malley’s.

It had been several weeks since Victor had even stepped foot near the place. He was sure Alice had been extremely grateful for that. Sadly, at least for her, he was going to have break through the peace and quite of bar life to see if he could figure out who the hell could have hired the guy.

When Victor waltzed in, the place hadn’t changed. The same old drunks that wanted to get an early start were there. Alice was still behind the bar. Everyone who glanced his way quickly looked away. Same old O’Malley’s.

Alice did a double take before quickly stiffening. She didn’t move as Victor approached. He went ahead and pulled out his phone, going to the mugshot of the hitman. He held it up. “You recognize him?”

“Y-you-wait what?”

“Do you recognize him?”

“That’s what you want to know?”

“Yes!” Victor snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Wake the fuck up Alice. Do you know this guy?”

“Well, maybe-yes? So you’re not here to kill me?”

“Why would I be coming to kill you?”

“I don’t know! You’ve been gone for so fucking long, I figured the next time you came in here would mean you really fucked up with your job and upon seeing me and remembering I fucking warned you about it, you’d get upset and finally decide to scratch that itch.”

“Really?” Victor laughed. “Roman found out about the following around. He was into it. Not that it matters now.”

“Seriously? Fucking Christ, you’re perfect for each other,” groaned Alice. “So if not that, then why the hell are you here?”

Victor waved his phone in her face. “This guy right here? You said you might know him?”

“The sooner I tell you, the sooner you’ll leave?”

“If you give me anything good, absolutely.”

She let out a tired sigh but took the phone from Victor. She zoomed in a little, her brow wrinkling in concentration. “What his name?” Victor gave it to her and he watched as something dawned on her face. “I do, actually. You’ve probably seen him around here before.”

“I fucking figured that much out. It’s why I’m here. So…”

“He worked for Strange. Done the couple of odd jobs for him here and there. Why?”

“Wait, he worked for Strange? Did Strange just pick him up from the bar when he needed an extra pair of hands or…”

“Not that I know of. He’s used him before. Knew him before he set up shop in the basement here.”

“Then he exclusively works for Strange?”

“I don’t know. I doubt it, but I don’t know.”

Victor took his phone back and looked at the picture. A deep frown set into his face. Had Strange…no. That didn’t make any sense. Strange had said some weird shit involving Roman. Victor could easily guess that he saw Roman, and really most people, as just potential test subjects. But because of that, no way in hell would Strange send a bunch of gunmen to kill Roman. A bunch of bullets would have just ruined a possible test subject. But…

It was a lead at least.

Victor really didn’t want to go talk to Strange. He’d hoped he would never fucking see him again, especially with Roman separating from his parents. But hell, if the guy had worked with Strange so often, then maybe Strange would know who could have hired him. Victor was sure he would have to fucking do something for Strange or pay him an exorbitant amount to get the information, but it was worth a shot.

“Where’s Strange now?”

“Not here. I’ve told you. I’m not his fucking secretary.”

“Alice, this is fucking serious.”

“I’m sure it is,” she sarcastically said. “But hell, if it gets you out of here faster, I think today is when he’s at the Asylum. Maybe. Just go fucking track him down yourself.”

“You’re a doll as always Alice.”

“Fuck you.”

Victor flashed her a smile full of teeth and quickly left. In the car, he looked up the number for the Asylum and called ahead. When he got confirmation that Strange was there, Victor quickly drove in that direction. He hadn’t been back since breaking into the place with Vicki. Hopefully, this would be the final time.

He went straight to the receptionist.

“I need to see Hugo Strange. Is he still in?”

The woman startled for a second. To be fair, it was an asylum, not a fucking clinic. However, after rustling through some things, she said, “You’re the young man who called earlier, correct?”

“Zsasz, yes.”

“Oh, well I’ll get someone to guide you. Strange said to send you through. It won’t take a second.”

Wait, Strange had said yes? The receptionist must have mentioned Victor’s name to Strange, but if anything, that should have caused Strange to say hell no and to turn him away. But he was willing to see him? Strange didn’t even have any idea what this was about.

Victor’s suspicions flared up, but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. Something felt off, but what?

An orderly came to show Victor the way. However, Victor immediately noticed when they weren’t headed to the elevator. “We’re not going to his office?”

“Dr. Strange is working with a patient. He asked for someone to take you there rather than his office. It’s just this way.”

It only took about two minutes more before they stopped at a door. The orderly knocked and then opened up the door.

“Ah, perfect timing. You can take Fleck back to his cell. Victor, do come in.”

As the orderly took the bound patient away and the door closed behind Victor, he quickly took in the room. It looked somewhat like a doctor’s office. So Strange had two? Or maybe this was used for a specific sect of patients? Victor wasn’t sure. He focused on Strange.

“You said yes to seeing me,” Victor immediately said.

“Well of course. When it’s you of all people searching me out, I can’t help but be curious. You haven’t come back to work for me, have you Victor?”

“Hell no. I just need some information on this person.”

“Information? You realize I won’t give it away for free.”

“Yeah, I fucking get it. I don’t care what fucking body I’ll need to dump or what. This is important.” Victor pulled out his phone and walked closer. “You know this guy? Alice said you did.”

“Ah, yes. I’d wondered where he had gone. Then of course I saw his name in the paper under a list of others that fell in a botched assassination attempt if I’m not mistaken.”

“Against Roman, yes,” Victor rushed. The sooner he figured out if Strange had any information, he could get it, and then get the hell out. “Nothing connects the other hitmen, but Alice said this guy worked with you a lot. Do you know who could have hired him?”

Strange hummed to himself. Victor started to get antsy. It felt like Strange was dragging this out just because he fucking could.

“Listen, if you don’t know who the fuck did it, or have an idea, I’m fucking gone. I just—”

Victor stopped as the door suddenly opened again. Two orderlies stepped in.

“Ah, yes thank you. The boxes I need you to move are right over here.”

Victor focused his attention back on Strange. At least he started to as the orderlies drew closer-wait. What fucking boxes?

Victor’s hair stood on end.

He reacted instantly, grabbing one orderly and shoving him against the wall. A stun baton fell from his grasp. Victor didn’t hesitate in snapping the man’s neck, but he’d been surprised. Unprepared. He didn’t have time to turn around as the second orderly hit him in the back with his own weapon.

Victor’s back muscles locked up as he let out an involuntary cry. When the shock let up, Victor didn’t quite fall. He managed to slip out a knife, turn around, and cut the second orderly, but before he could get in a killing blow, Victor got hit a third time.

He fell to the ground and got one last look at Strange who had picked up the dead orderly’s baton. This didn’t make any fucking sense! Was Strange behind this? Why—

The thought got cut short as Victor was hit again. For a brief second, all he felt was pain, and then everything went black.

It was difficult to say how much time passed, but from Victor’s point of view, it was just a few muddy, dark seconds. His vision was blurry as his eyes blinked open. He could already tell he was somewhere else though. The ceiling looked different. He tried to move—

He couldn’t fucking move.

Victor came awake more quickly, struggling more until he heard a sound from behind him. He was on some kind of table, arms and legs and head strapped down. It looked like some kind of doctor’s room. Was he still in the Asylum? One of Strange’s other labs? He strained his vision back and watched a figure finally walk into view.

“What the fuck Strange!” Victor started to struggle again. His eyes looked around, at the restraints, the room. Ok, how was he going to get out of this? Fucking think. He just had to fucking think—

“I must admit, this all occurred rather beautifully,” sighed Strange, drawing Victor’s attention back to him. “I’d planned to have Alice draw you in, but then you came all on your own.”

“Wait, Alice fucking knows about this?”

“Oh no. She hasn’t a clue. I just became oh so lucky that you were looking for me before I needed you. Thank you for calling ahead by the way. It made your capture much easier.”

“Fuck you,” growled Victor. He started to look around again. He had no idea why this was happening, but first he needed to get the hell out. He needed to get out and-fuck. He’d killed a guy. How long ago had it been? Victor’s heart jumped into his throat. His tallies were fucking off. Oh god. No, no, not right fucking now.

His eyes flickered over as he felt Strange check his pulse. “Your ritual, correct? No, I suppose you wouldn’t have had time to fix it. I wonder…”

Strange picked up a scalpel. The blade suddenly dug into Victor and he couldn’t help the twisted, sickening feeling in his stomach. Automatically, the fear of the tallies being off vanished, but to have Strange do it? It was fucking disgusting.

When Strange finished, he checked Victor’s pulse again.

“And you’re immediately calmer. Fascinating.” He turned away and started to write something down.

“Listen,” growled Victor. “I don’t know what the fuck this is about or why the hell you would have tried to have Roman killed, but I’m going to slit your god damn throat.”

Strange laughed. “You think I tried to have the young, little Sionis killed?”

“Well why the hell did you have your fucking goons attack me and take me here?!”

“Oh, there is still so much you don’t know,” chuckled Strange. He pulled a chair over and sat by Victor’s head.

Victor sarcastically said, “This where you do your big villain speech?”

“I am hardly a villain Victor. Simply a man of science. You see, I made a deal with Richard and Janis Sionis. I would get rid of you if instead of killing their son, they simply took him and gave him to me. I have wanted to dissect his brain for some time.”

Victor stared back, his brain quickly catching up with all the information that had just gotten dumped on him. “His parents are trying to kill him?!” Well that explained why the security detail had fucking sucked, but, “Why the fuck are they trying to kill him?” Those attempts had been before Roman had left them. “They said they wanted him to work for them more, to stay, despite how they’ve been trying to fucking kill him all this time?”

“It is somewhat convoluted, isn’t it?” Strange laughed again. “From my understanding, Roman has become too much of a burden, a disappointment to them. Having him die young and putting them in the spotlight of the poor, mourning couple, is their solution. It deals with Roman and puts pity on them. But it only works if he is the young, troubled soul under their wing. Not a young man who has now struck out and denounced them. They want him dead, and dead quickly before his business truly gets going and it becomes public knowledge there’s been a split in the Sionis household.

“However, to do that, they’ve realized they’ll have to get rid of you first. In regards to the man you recognized, I did allow the Sionis’ to employ him. And when that assassination attempt failed and so did the second one, they came to me again with the hopes that I may have a way to get rid of you. Low and behold, they were thrilled I actually knew you and assured them I could easily find a way to take you from Roman’s side. And here you are.”

Victor gritted his teeth. “Yeah? Well guess fucking what? I’m going to get out of here and I’m going to rip you fucking apart. I’m going to tell Roman all the shit you told me-I mean really? You just give away your whole fucking plan? How fucking stupid can you be? I’m going to tell Roman all this shit, and then, I’m going to finally fucking kill his parents like I should have all along. I’ll fucking eviscerate you!”

Strange just laughed.

That really wasn’t the reaction Victor was going for. His stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“Oh, trust me. You’re not going anywhere Victor. But even if you did? You won’t remember a single thing.”

“Remember-what the fuck are you going to do?!” Strange wasn’t just going to try and kill him? Fuck! Of course he wasn’t! He was a batshit insane doctor!

Victor started to struggle again. He yelled some more profanities at Strange, but mid shout, Strange shoved something in between his teeth.

“I would hate for you to bite off your tongue and die before I can finish my round of experiments. Now, I won’t lie Victor. This will hurt quite a bit. But don’t worry, you’ll soon forget that too, along with everything else I suspect.”

Before Victor could even question what that meant, he heard a machine turn on. Something touched both sides of his head—

He entire body contorted against the restraints as he screamed into the gag—

His back hit nothingness.

Time fell away.

Alone.

Empty.

Unable to feel his own body.

No thoughts to process.

No feeling.

Who was he?

And then Victor gasped into himself, his body shuddering against the table as everything came back into focus and yet somehow off. His head was muddled. Everything fucking hurt and not in a fucking good way.

Strange came back into his field of vision. “How are we doing Victor?”

He managed a muffled, “Fuck you,” against the gag.

“Another round it is.”

Victor’s stomach dropped.

Give him a bullet to the head. A broken spine. Fine. He hadn’t expected a cushy retirement check from this lifestyle. But don’t let him go back there. Don’t let him feel so fucking trapped in nothing, barely able to remember his own name. He couldn’t fucking go back! He couldn’t—

The pain came back.

He screamed.

His body contorted.

And then it all dropped away again as Victor’s mind fell into the black.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love a good cliffhanger but I hate leaving people on one for too long so here's the next chapter! A massive thank you for all the awesome comments and kudos. It seriously helps my muse.
> 
> Also, a bit weird this chapter isn't from Victor's point of view (and will probably be the only one like it), but hopefully you still like it. Enjoy!

Vicki Vale wasn’t real.

What others thought they saw, the person they thought they knew, was a carefully crafted doll. The thread had been stitched above her skin. The abuse, her anger, the lies and her broken past all hidden behind bright smiles and inquisitive questions.

She graduated an A honor roll student from high school despite how even at that point, one wrong word could send her ‘falling down the stairs’ at home.

She got her BA in journalism and an internship despite how in her free time she was picking apart and learning who her real mother had been, the story somehow more horrific than one she’d grown up in.

Vicki Vale was a journalist.

The real her had been anger, red and hot and waiting for an opportunity to extract some form of revenge. And once it had been successful?

Victor Zsasz had given her a way to redirect the real her.

The anger wouldn’t have just fizzled out. She’d known that going in. If she’d survived, living as only Vicki Vale with no outlet would have eventually led to an explosion. And honestly? There had been some thought of self-sacrifice, the belief that she wouldn’t have to worry about what happened next anyways. If her plans got her killed, so be it. As long as the world knew what the Wayne’s had done, what had happened to her mother. That was all she’d cared about.

But Victor had given her an unlikely perspective.

He’d given her a second chance. The goal of revenge was gone and pushed to the side. But neither did the role of Vicki Vale have to act as a closed door to any true thoughts or feelings. It was an odd friendship, but truly the first real one she had ever had.

Vicki Vale had plenty of friends. Colleagues that were down for a drink after work. That would certainly consider her close enough to invite to a baby shower.

But for her, Victor was perhaps the only one that could be considered real. Because of that, despite his way of working, the obvious psychological issues he had, the amount of people he’d killed, she still felt something happen in her heart that had never happened before as she answered Roman’s call.

She was in the middle of going over tomorrow’s draft when she glanced at the name. Her body reacted instantly. She spit out the food she’d been eating back into the bowl, quickly wiped her lips, and answered. She didn’t even get a word in as she heard Roman’s yell.

“Where the fuck is Victor?!”

“What’s happened?”

“I don’t fucking know! That’s why I’m calling you! You’re the last person who I can think of who would have seen him today. You met for lunch, right?”

“Yes—”

“Well then where the fuck is he now?!”

Roman was mostly yelling. He sounded angry, but past that anger, Vicki could detect the worry. She wouldn’t have been Roman’s first call. He would have called Victor first. And then he would have called him again.

And again.

And again.

_And again—_

Vicki’s stomach dropped. She interrupted Roman’s ranting and quickly said, “He mentioned going to O’Malley’s.”

“That little, shit bar he used to frequent? Why!?”

“Because he realized one of the men who tried to kill you had once worked for someone there. I’ll go there right away, figure out where he might have gone next.” Roman hadn’t even had to ask her. She felt it. Despite how crazy it was, she actually felt worried for another human being. Victor of all people, but the emotion was there.

“Come by the club first. I want Barsad with you on this.”

It was a fair demand. If Victor wasn’t picking up, then something was incredibly wrong. She suspected she could use all the back up she could get. “I’ll be right there.”

“Get here fucking soon.” Then, as if he’d just mumbled the words to himself, she heard Roman add, “I’m going to try him again,” before hanging up.

Alright, Roman was really fucking worried, and Vicki was definitely feeling the same. She checked the time.

Going by the moment Victor had left her in the parking garage then…he had been gone for almost seven hours. Not a text, a call, nothing to Roman? Vicki hadn’t seen what it had been like when they’d been limited in their time together, but she’d seen a lot more of both of them while they’d lived together, first at the hotel and now at the club. The idea that either of them would go seven whole fucking hours without saying anything to the other seemed near impossible.

This had to be really fucking bad then.

Vicki walked across her apartment, stripping off her clothes as she went. Scars that no one ever saw were reflected in the nearby mirror. Most were from cigarette butts, the small round masses going over her chest and back. She pulled off her last piece of clothing as she came to her closest. She put on new pants, a shirt. All were dark with the intent of making it easier to hide in the shadows. She pulled on the boots and gloves, and then finally moved to a case in the very back of her closet.

It clicked open. The contents were few and simple. She put the two guns away. She picked up the mask in her hand and closed the case again.

Walking back across her own apartment, her posture changed from more rigid and professional to more flexible, able to adapt as the situation called for it. She kept the mask close as she left her apartment and went to her car. She drove not to the club, but a nearby spot that she often left it. She got out and finally put on the mask as she walked the rest of the way.

Roman grabbed her arm the moment she was inside.

“Barsad is almost done. Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I don’t want to see you back here until you’ve fucking found him.”

Vicki nodded in understanding. She stopped when it seemed Roman was finished talking to her. She watched how his anger spilled over into just about every person that even walked near him. If she had a bigger heart, she might have felt bad for whatever fucker was keeping Victor from answering. As it stood, Vicki was happy to release some similar anger on whoever was involved.

Barsad was ready just a moment later. “You said O’Malley’s was that the last place he was known to have gone?”

Vicki nodded.

“I’ll drive.”

He walked out of the club and Vicki followed close behind. Hopefully Victor had at least gone to O’Malley’s. Otherwise there would be no trail for them to follow.

“Why that bar?” asked Barsad as he started to drive. Vicki quickly filled him in on the last minute discovery involving the possible connection to Hugo Strange. “Then we know what to ask, assuming he ever left there.”

“Maybe he didn’t. I know the place was important because Strange worked at O’Malley’s.”

“An esteemed doctor worked at a bar?”

“There’s some backroom or basement area. Basically an illegal lab from what I understand.”

Barsad nodded again.

The drive was short, Barsad moving quickly and speeding in between cars where he could. They parked at the bar and inside, the room quieted. Eyes fell on her face, the skull. She even heard someone whisper, “Why would Sionis’ people be here?” Good, then the patrons would quickly know they weren’t fucking around. Vicki looked at every individual person. All eyes tried to avoid hers except one. The woman at the bar just stared. There was some level of recognition like everyone else as to what the black mask symbolized. But there was more with her. The woman’s eyes didn’t flicker away and she mouthed, ‘oh shit.’

Vicki went straight for her. Barsad stuck right behind her.

The bartender started talking first. Vicki let her, gleaming what information she could get from the woman’s panicked, hurried speech.

“I don’t know what Victor’s said now, but I don’t want anything to do with him or Sionis. Please, please whatever he’s trying now, I just want to be left the fuck alone.”

“You think Victor sent us?” asked Vicki.

“He didn’t?”

There was genuine surprise on the woman’s face. Vicki might have heard Victor mention there was some bartender he liked to occasionally fuck with here. It was possible that she’d been one of the people he’d talked to. Since Strange secretly operated this place behind the scenes, then anyone who worked here had to have some knowledge of what was going on. Vicki decided to make an educated guess as she said, “We’re looking for him. He talked to you today. Where is he?”

Vicki watched the woman’s face carefully. There was still a sense of surprise. Vicki automatically didn’t think the woman knew where Victor was right then and there. But she had an idea of where he had gone, maybe what he was looking for. “I-I don’t know—”

Vicki glanced to the back door and then to Barsad. He nodded in agreement and immediately walked towards it.

“Hey! You can’t go back there—” Her words came to an abrupt halt as Vicki grabbed her shirt and partially pulled her over the bar.

“What’s your name?”

“A-Alice—”

“Well Alice, if you had anything to do with Victor’s appearance, I can assure you that Roman will make sure you, and all others involved, burn alive. Understood?”

Alice quickly nodded.

Vicki smiled underneath the mask. She let go of Alice only so she could walk around the bar, grab her again, and force her through the back where Barsad had already gone. All patrons quickly turned back to their beers, no one raising a hand to help. Vicki followed Barsad down the stairs as Alice quickly yelled out, “He’s not here! I would know if he was here!”

“And Strange?”

“No one is here right now! I promise. Ok? Please, just please let me go!”

“Do you know where Victor went after this?” asked Vicki. They were in the basement now. Barsad had his gun out. It was completely possible Alice had lied to them. However, as he checked each room, he found nothing. Eventually he put his gun away and started to look at what there was to see.

“He was looking for Strange.”

Alice started to babble off a lot that was already known involving the hitman, though she did establish a connection between the hitman and Strange. That was interesting, but first to try and find Victor. Vicki interrupted and said, “Where did he go looking for Strange next?”

“Arkham, maybe? But I don’t know if he found him there or had to go to the hospital or somewhere else.”

So perhaps Victor had gone back to Arkham? But had he disappeared because he’d gone to see Strange or after the fact? They would have to find Strange themselves before Vicki could discern that for certain. She asked, “Was there any kind of relationship between them?”

“Victor had worked for him before. They both pretty much hated each other. Strange thought Victor rude, didn’t like how he operated. It was only because Victor needed employment that he put up with it.”

So bad blood between them. It was more likely that Strange might have something to do with Victor’s disappearance then. But was this a separate event or did it directly have to do with Victor’s goal in trying to find who hired the hitmen? Vicki wasn’t sure.

“I’ve got something,” Barsad suddenly said. He’d been going through everything with a meticulous eye. He pulled out a journal and threw it Vicki’s way. She let go of Alice and caught it. She skimmed through it. The little dates and times seemed to be disguised as appointments, but the odd hours and nonsense words and unknown acronyms made Vicki suspect it was times for his more illegal practices. Nothing was directly spelled out, but it could help them.

“See if you can find anything else,” Vicki said. “If not, we’re going to Arkham.”

“Last place he went?”

“As far as we know for now.”

Alice started to back up, but Vicki’s hand shot out and kept her there. An idea had come to her.

“Do you have a way to get in contact with Strange?”

Alice hesitantly nodded.

“Do it. Now.”

Her hands shook as she pulled out her phone.

“Put it on speaker.”

Alice did. Barsad stopped his searching around. The three of them stood there and waited and waited and—

Voicemail.

“Worth a shot,” sighed Barsad. He started looking for anything else again.

“Do you know where Strange would be right now?” asked Vicki.

Alice shook her head. “Home? Another lab somewhere? I don’t know. I work here! This is my job. I keep the bar under control. I don’t know anything else! Honest!”

She seemed like she was telling the truth, but just in case… “I’ll kill you myself if you’re lying.”

Alice gulped but nodded in understanding. Barsad closed the last shelf.

“Nothing else but surgical equipment. Arkham?”

Vicki nodded.

She pushed past Alice and her and Barsad went to the ground level again. Vicki started to go through the journal again. From what she could tell, it wasn’t like the whole thing was written in code. Just locations had different keywords to mask the true placement and acronyms seemed to be for obscure medical treatments. Vicki pulled out her phone and actually found a few. Others must have stood for medical techniques that Strange had created or put his own spin on though because they were just gibberish to Google.

“If Victor isn’t at Arkham, we may have to figure out where the hell some of these locations are,” commented Vicki. “Unless we get a lead to go somewhere else.”

Barsad silently nodded in agreement.

It was past nine by the time they reached Arkham. Vicki’s eyes searched the parking lot for Victor’s car. Barsad slowly drove down the rows, doing the same. Vicki caught sight of a man getting into his own car. Her eyes almost moved past it automatically because of that but—

Wait a fucking second! It was Victor’s car.

“Stop!”

Barsad did and Vicki jumped out. The man reacted instantly, hurrying to jump in Victor’s car but Vicki was quicker. She grabbed his collar and pulled him back. Her ankle caught his and the man fell on his ass as Vicki turned on him and pulled out a gun. She slowly bent down, retrieving Victor’s keys from where the man had dropped them without breaking eye contact.

Barsad was out and now standing behind the man, silently daring him to make a move.

The man had probably been planning to dispose of the car. Vicki asked the most important question first. “Is he dead?”

“I-I don’t know what—”

“Don’t play dumb,” Barsad calmly interrupted. He knelt behind the man and put a hand on his shoulder, close to his throat. Barsad pressed just a little against the man’s windpipe. “We know this is his car. Were you going to dispose of it?”

When the man didn’t immediately respond, Vicki cocked the gun. “Answer the question.”

“Y-yes.”

“Is he dead?” asked Barsad.

“I don’t know.”

Vicki let out an irritated sigh. She raised her arm. “If you’re not going to be useful—”

“Wait! Wait I just-I just work here! Ok? Dr. Strange sometimes asks me to do an extra job for him, no questions asked, money upfront. He had me put the guy you’re looking for in one of the transport trucks. That’s all I know! Honest.”

“Has that truck returned?” asked Barsad.

“N-no. Dr. Strange said it wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.”

“Any way to track it?”

“GPS, in case one is stolen o-or like an inmate got lose and took it? T-that’s happened before. But Dr. Strange disables it whenever he needs it.”

Vicki let out a low growl in the back of her throat. “You’re starting to lose interest again—”

“There’s a way to activate it remotely! But it has to be done inside and I—”

“Good, you can show me,” Barsad murmured. He pulled the man up to his feet. Vicki finally put her gun away. “I’ll be right back. Contact Roman.”

Vicki nodded. She watched Barsad force the man towards the Asylum for a moment before she sat in the driver’s seat of Victor’s car. She looked around, but sadly didn’t find anything of use. She pulled out her phone.

Roman answered, snapping at her right away. “What is it?”

“We found the car at Arkham Asylum. I’m going to leave the keys tucked under the trunk. Send someone to pick it up.”

“Alright.” She faintly heard him drop his hand before he yelled at possibly the closest person. The phone came back up and Vicki heard clearly, “Do you know where he is yet?”

“No, but we have a lead we’re following. We were told he’s not dead.”

“That doesn’t mean shit if you still don’t know where the hell he is,” growled Roman. “Just…fuck. Call me if you find anything else.”

“We will.”

Roman hung up. Vicki went ahead and locked up the car. She carefully placed the keys where she said she would. After that, she moved Barsad’s car into a nearby parking space. Barsad came back out with the guy.

“Found it?” asked Vicki.

Barsad nodded.

Vicki looked to the man and then held out her hand. “Give me your wallet.”

“W-why—”

“Stop asking questions and just do it.”

The man stumbled to do it. She took the wallet, pulled out his driver’s license, and took a picture of it before placing everything back in and handing it over.

“Why would you do that?”

“Insurance. If you contact Strange in any way and warn him, I’ll hunt you down and burn you alive.”

“I wasn’t going to call him! I swear! I wasn’t!”

“Maybe so, but now I know for sure,” Vicki replied. “Ideally, we’ll never see each other again. But know if you fuck us over, the next time you see me, I’ll have a can of gasoline with me. Understood?”

The man desperately nodded. Vicki gestured towards Barsad and he finally let the guy go. The man scrambled off, zeroing in on his own car and getting the hell out of there. Vicki said, “I’m assuming we’re heading back into Gotham?”

Barsad nodded.

They got in the car and drove off again.

It was getting late now. Victor had been gone for almost ten hours. That was too fucking long. Even if the guy had moved Victor while alive, what if he was dead now? Roman would burn the whole fucking city as a result. Vicki realized that if that was the case, she would help him. She would kill whoever had done this and then—

She didn’t know. But the ache in her chest had just continued to increase. It didn’t matter that Victor likely wouldn’t go through the same trouble for her. Only a command from Roman would have got him searching as desperately as she was searching. But it didn’t matter how one sided it felt. Victor couldn’t be dead. After everything he had done for her, this couldn’t be how it ended for him.

They were almost at the location the GPS had specified when Vicki said, “Hold on! Pull over. Right here.”

Barsad did so. “The truck should just be a block away.”

“I know, but I think this is the place.” She took out Strange’s journal again. She flipped through the pages and found one of the appointments. It had occurred several days ago. The location was marked as the Purple Flower. Vicki looked up and saw a neon purple rose flashing in broken patterns on the front of a pawn shop. “This is it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. Come on.”

Vicki dropped the journal on the floor and got out. Barsad followed close behind as Vicki headed to the door. The open sign was off but there was a man inside. He made a motion, probably trying to signal that they were closed. However, he did a double take at the black mask he saw. He immediately started to reach under the counter. Vicki took out her gun as Barsad rushed forward and kicked the door in, the lock snapping into pieces. The man brought out a shotgun. Vicki fired first. The bullet hit the man in the shoulder.

Barsad jumped the counter and got the shotgun out of the man’s hands. He broke his nose and the man went down. Barsad flipped the shotgun over and pointed it at him. “Is this another front for Dr. Hugo Strange?”

“Fuck.” He spit blood onto the floor.

Vicki dragged the attention back to her as she walked around the counter and came up to the man on the other side. “Listen, we’ve both already heard it all. You’re not involved. You just did it for some extra cash. Whatever. We don’t fucking care. Just tell us if a man was brought in and we might let you go to the hospital.”

“I don’t know. Wait! Strange is here right now! Him and his goons! They brought some things in, been here all afternoon, but I wasn’t involved with the transportation. I stayed out of it. Ok? Just go in the back. It’s all up the stairs. I don’t know if you’ll fine what you’re looking for, but Strange is up there.”

Barsad checked that both barrels were loaded. “Got any more shells for this?”

The man pointed. Barsad grabbed them and put them away. He quickly went through the back door. Vicki and Barsad made sure the area was clear before he took point on the stairs. They were almost at the top when the door was flung open. They must have heard Vicki when she shot the shop owner. The man in front of him raised a gun, but Barsad fired first.

Spots of red blossomed across the man’s chest as his body wobbled and he fell back. Barsad rolled out of the way and behind some crates as Vicki fired at the next man. It didn’t matter who they were. She would kill each one of them in order to get to Victor.

God, he had to fucking be here. Please!

Barsad and Vicki moved quickly. Heads lurched backwards. Blood and brains spattered against walls and ceilings as the bodies fell. They moved across the floor and Vicki spotted a backdoor still swinging open. She rushed to the top of the outside steps and fired at the three men running away. One looked to be Strange, but it was difficult to tell from this distance. She managed to graze one, but after stumbling they managed to get up and continue. They were just too far ahead.

But Victor wasn’t with them. Should she follow? If she didn’t, they could lose them, but they hadn’t completely cleared the floor. Was Victor here—

“In here!”

Vicki abandoned the idea of going after the others. She turned back around and followed Barsad’s voice.

Like the basement of O’Malley’s, the second floor had been set up like a very back alley lab with medical equipment and tools scattered about. Barsad was in the doorway of a room. Vicki came to his side—

Oh no.

No.

He couldn’t—

He wasn’t—

She walked over and threw back the white sheet—

“It’s not him.” The man was dressed like an orderly. His neck was broken. But if this wasn’t Victor, then where the hell—

A noise alerted them to the next room over. Barsad pushed the door open—

“Grab that sheet now!” Barsad commanded. He put the shotgun away and rushed over to Victor. He undid the strap around his head, wrapped his hands around Victor’s bleeding neck, and carefully held it up to slow the blood flow. Vicki followed Barsad’s order and then ripped the fabric into a smaller section.

“When I remove my hands, shove that against the wound. One, two, three-now!”

Vicki did just that. Barsad’s hands returned and Vicki started undoing the rest of the straps.

From the state of the room, Strange must have been in the middle of doing some kind of fucked up experiment. Papers and notes were scattered about like he’d desperately grabbed all that he could before fleeing. Vicki imagined that Strange had hoped to continue the torture until Victor died, but they’d interrupted him. Since he couldn’t finish, Strange must have decided to kill Victor rather than risk a successful rescue from occurring. He’d slit Victor’s neck with a scalpel-the bloody item on the floor-before running out the backdoor. Thankfully it hadn’t been deep enough or the angle had been wrong though. The point was Strange had been too focused on saving himself and getting out than finishing the job properly.

“Can you hold this?” asked Barsad.

Vicki nodded. Barsad quickly walked her through the process so that she was holding Victor’s head up just so. When she fully replaced his spot, Barsad called someone. Vicki didn’t focus in on the conversation though. All her attention was on Victor. Decreasing the blood flow had seemed to stabilize him a bit. His body wasn’t shaking uncontrollably anymore, and he was still breathing. He was still alive.

His eyes were unfocused, glazed. Was it the blood loss? The experimentation? Both? Either way, it was clear he wasn’t aware of his surroundings. Yet still Vicki whispered to him.

“You’ve got this. Just hang on. I’ll get you to Roman soon. Please Victor. Just keep breathing.”

Barsad pocketed his phone.

“What’s the plan?” asked Vicki.

“Most of the police are distracted with a fire on the south side. Someone called the shots in, but it’ll take the nearest patrol unit about fifteen minutes to get here. We’ll be gone by then.”

“You got our people coming?”

Barsad nodded. “Falcone is generously lending us a doctor as well. We’ll meet him at the club.”

Good. Going to a hospital was obviously out of the question.

“Our people should be here in about five minutes. Help me make sure he’s stable before we have to move him.”

Vicki listened to Barsad’s orders and followed them. By the time the people were there and they were starting to carefully move Victor, he’d passed out. However, his heart was still going strong. He was going to make it. He had to.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter hope you enjoy!

He woke up.

Sunlight was streaming through the cracks of the dark curtains. He was lying in a bed, though it was difficult to process the feeling of the material wrapped around him. His body slightly rolled over—

Oh fuck, he was going to be sick.

He tried to get out of the bed. It wasn’t like his limbs were tangled in the sheets or anything. His legs just couldn’t hold his body up. He hit the ground hard. His stomach heaved. The acid traveled up his throat and into his mouth. He barely managed to hold it back as he pushed himself up and crawled.

Everything hurt. Nothing wanted to move right. It was like there was a delay between his brain and every action he tried to do. He thought his hand had already met the floor, had propped him up. He thought he could let his weight rest on it, only his hand wasn’t actually there yet.

His entire body hit the floor again. He vomited without moving his head.

The content was mostly stomach acid, murky but no chunks at least as it dripped out of his mouth. It stung like hell, but the feeling was overshadowed by the pain felt in every inch of his body. He dragged himself up. He pushed forward a little farther. His hands shook as he pushed open a door, leaned against a toilet, and vomited again. For a second, he could only focus on trying to hold his head up. His stomach emptied again and again until it was just dry heaving. Then he collapsed on the ground.

His body just wouldn’t stop shaking.

After a moment, he dragged himself across the floor and into the shower. One hand came up and just barely hit the handle. Cold water splashed against him, flattening his hair, running down his nose. The bile was washed from his chin and neck. He curled up in the corner of the shower. The water started to run red, though it was an old, dirtier red. It cleared up after a second.

Where was he?

He hadn’t even had to stop and ask himself where the bathroom could be. He’d managed to find it first try despite crawling across the floor and everything aching. So he knew where he was. He had to. But he just…

He couldn’t fucking remember.

His head felt worse than his limbs. Every thought took so much god damn time to process. It bled into each other. The words warped and sometimes didn’t come out right. And behind it all was such a thick fog. He couldn’t gain access. He couldn’t pull from the back of his head. He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t fucking remember—

“Oh you’re awake. Fuck.”

Someone stumbled in. They looked startled, uncertain of what to do. If he knew them, he couldn’t recognize them. He couldn’t trust his words, his tongue just too heavy. He growled in the back of his throat, a warning. The person quickly stepped back. Right, don’t get any closer. Don’t fucking touch him!

“I-I um—”

He growled again. Barred his teeth.

“I-I’m going to get Mr. Sionis. J-Just-fuck. Just stay there please.”

The person scurried off.

A shuddering breath escaped his lips. His eyes slipped shut as he pressed his cheek against the cold tile of the wall. He tried to make sense of his muddled mind, but that hurt as well. Just everything kept fucking hurting.

The one thing that didn’t seem completely fucked was his hearing. He opened his eyes when he heard someone talking. They said something about cleaning the mess up and then the person from before scurried away. The new person, a young man, calmly walked over. He instinctually growled but unlike the other person, this one didn’t seem deterred. The man leaned in and around the spray of water. The man turned it off.

He barred his teeth again, growled, but the man didn’t back up. Instead, the man carefully knelt so that his pants didn’t touch the wet shower floor. The man reached out and touched his cheek.

This felt right. He immediately knew that this made sense. Everything else was still a cloudy mess, painful and unwilling to fall into the correct places. But this? This he recognized as he leaned into the man’s hand.

“You’re still there. I knew you would be.”

He turned his face slightly. His nose pressed into the palm and he nuzzled against it. When the man withdrew his hand, he tried to follow.

“I’m not going far. Don’t worry. I simply refuse to let you get back into bed completely soaked like this.”

That sounded right. It sounded like something he should chuckle at or roll his eyes at. Only if he did that now, he might just puke again. He curled into himself, staying there until the man came back with a towel.

“Take off your clothes.”

He moved away from the wall a bit, but it was so difficult to even sit up straight. The man was back though. The man helped and as the clothes came off, he noted they were different. He hadn’t been wearing them before-but before what? He still couldn’t remember.

When it became clear to the man that he wasn’t going to be able to keep doing this and not get wet, he let out a resigned sigh. “The things I do for you. You know that?”

Once his clothes were off, the man also peeled away two soaked bandages. One came from his abdomen. The other, his neck. What had happened? Why were they there?

The man sat on the wet floor. The man made a disgusted noise but stayed there as he started to dry him. He involuntarily whimpered. His nerves felt like they weren’t reacting right, like they didn’t fully understand how to process the towel against his skin. Was it soft? Painful? Both somehow? It made the situation even more confusing. He didn’t fight it though, not when he could confirm that the only people in the room was still just him and the young man drying him.

When the man left, he couldn’t help but whimper again. Even if he couldn’t remember the man’s name, he was the one thing that made sense, that he knew should be there.

“Just give me a second.”

The man moved back after throwing the wet clothes and towel somewhere. He picked up the wet bandages and tossed them into a trash can.

“Stand with me. Can you do that? Come on.”

Moving at all hurt, but he didn’t fight the man’s words and let him pull him up. He leaned heavily against the man, taking several steps out of the bathroom. He noted that the place where he’d thrown up had been cleaned. His eyes wondered around the room. He knew this place. He did. The right words were just on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t quite drag them from the back of his mind—

His legs gave.

The man let out a grunt before scooping him up and taking the last few steps on his own. He felt himself being placed back in the bed. Covers were drawn over him. He looked up and—

It was almost there. He almost had it.

“R—”

The man quickly focused on him.

It was so difficult to get his tongue to move right, but he was so close. He fought against the sluggish nature.

“Roman?”

The pleased look in the man’s eyes told him he was right. Roman, oh of course it was Roman. How could he ever fucking forget him?

“I’ll be back soon. I’d stay right this second if I could,” murmured Roman. Roman pulled a trashcan around. “It’s right here if you need it so you don’t have to crawl to the damn bathroom again.”

Roman was ready to move back, but he reached out his hand. Roman took it for a second before pulling away. He tried to relax in the bed as Roman walked off. His eyes slipped shut as his shoulders drooped in exhaustion.

When they opened again, he rolled over and grabbed the trashcan, thankfully aiming right. Some fluid came out, but his body mostly dry heaved again and again like he was trying to cough out his own lung. When the shakes had mostly subsided, he spit into the trashcan and collapsed back on the bed.

His eyes slipped shut again.

The next time they opened, it was completely dark. He hurt. His body still felt lethargic even in the slow movements. But his mind felt clearer. It was difficult to dredge up complete memories and his thoughts were definitely slower. However, another name besides Roman’s finally came to him.

“Victor.”

He whispered his own name in the dark. His whole body shuddered. He knew who he was. He knew where he was. Christ, how had he been unable to connect the dots before? How could he not dredge up the right memories?

Victor rolled over. He thought he might throw up again, but his stomach finally calmed. The trashcan had also been changed so he thankfully didn’t get a whiff of his own vomit. He carefully pushed himself up and looked over his shoulder. Roman was still asleep, body slightly turn towards Victor. From the looks of it, his arm had been thrown over Victor’s side, only to fall limp when Victor had moved away.

How had he forgotten that face? How had he looked and not known Roman’s name? The thought pained Victor almost as much as his aching body and muddled mind did. He felt a little more in control, but everything was still hurting and twitchy. He made sure Roman was still asleep before trying to get out of bed. It took him a second to steady himself, but thankfully he didn’t fucking face plant again.

Victor made it to the bathroom. He turned on the light and then splashed water on his face. Only then did he take a deep breath and risk looking at himself in the mirror.

Oh fuck, he looked terrible.

He’d seen himself bloody and bruised. He could even recall getting his jaw dislocated once. All that he could deal with. Honestly, he would prefer it if he looked like that. Instead, his skin had lost so much fucking color, and he had been pale to begin with. A blood vessel had burst in his right eye leaving it bright red.

And his entire body was still shaking.

Victor had never felt weaker. He stared down at his hands, his fingers trembling against the sink.

Fuck! He was going to fucking kill—

Strange?

Yeah it…was it…

Though it hurt to concentrate on anything, Victor at least seemed able to access his memories again. He could more easily form coherent thoughts. Sometimes a word left him or it was still difficult to pull really specific details, but it was far better than it had been. The last clear thing he remembered was…what was it…

The orderly! He’d snapped the orderly’s neck because…because…it had been Strange! He was right about that.

Ok, he was starting to remember a few other things and…and….

His eyes looked down to his abdomen. Right there, a cut had scabbed over. It looked like most of the others, but it was at an odd angle. Or it would have been an odd angle if Victor had done it himself. But he…

His nose wrinkled. He was pretty sure Strange had done it. He had a vague recollection of it. And—

Victor froze as his eyes went back to the mirror. He finally focused on a long, stitched wound that went horizontal across the left side of his neck. Victor hated the idea that Strange had performed one of the tallies for him. But this—

His mind felt like it was on fire as he tried to make sense of the wound.

He couldn’t remember there being another death. And the placement-no. It had been a cut meant to kill. One last motion to end his life. That in and of itself didn’t bother him. What bothered him was that it hadn’t killed him.

That meant it would scar.

It meant a mark without a story, without a body.

They were off.

The marks were off.

Off off _off offofffoff **offoffoffoff—**_

Victor’s knees buckled and he threw up in the toilet again, though this time for an entirely different reason. His right arm just barely kept him propped up as his lungs heaved and heaved. Only a bit of bile came up before it turned to small splashes of clear liquid that fell from his lips. Nothing more came as his body dry heaved again and again. His left hand was covering the wound, scratching at the stitches.

His blood pounded in his ears. He couldn’t hear anything else

They were off. He had to fucking fix it, but he didn’t know how. This hadn’t fucking happened before! It didn’t happen. It never happened. It wasn’t supposed to fucking happen but he had to do something! They were off! Off off off _offoffoffoff—_

Victor felt arms grab him and pull him back. He didn’t fight that, but he did when he felt how the person was trying to stop him from scratching at the stitching. However, a solution was found. When they couldn’t pull Victor’s hand away, they simply pulled him in close to their chest and pressed the flat of their hand on top of Victor’s so that both their hands were now covering the wound, though Victor couldn’t scratch it anymore. It wasn’t exactly helping his hyperventilating though.

He glanced around him, at the person—

It was Roman. Of course it was. It managed to relax Victor a little. His breathing started to slow. For a moment, he was just held by Roman, slouched over and with his back against Roman’s chest. Victor tried his best to move his tongue after a moment. He had to think on the words again before he could say them out loud. He gagged at the thought before he managed to whisper, “They’re off.”

“I guessed as much. You did warn me that this didn’t happen. Ever.”

Victor’s brow furrowed. Had he said that? It would make sense if he had, but he just couldn’t…

“I can’t remember if I said that,” Victor said. His speech was still slower than he would like, his tongue heavy. At least he was able to get a full god damn sentence out.

“The doctor said you probably wouldn’t. That it would take time. He said it would take longer for you to even be able to move. I told him it was bullshit and you’d come back to me faster than that.”

Of course Victor would! They would have to bury him if they wanted to stop him from finding Roman again. And yet…

He hadn’t known Roman. He hadn’t known his name or exactly why he was important. Even the sense that he had been important had been vague and confusing. He could have lost Roman, but with an end that he was not ok with. He let out a shuddering sigh.

“Are you going to keep scratching if I remove my hand?”

“I don’t know.”

“Alright. Just hold my hand and don’t let go then.” Roman moved his hand so their fingers could interlock. He brought their hands down. There was blood on them, and Victor could feel more blood slowly drip down his neck. He clenched his other hand in a tight fist, just in case. “Can you handle it?”

Victor hesitantly nodded.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Strange and…” It took him a moment to think of the right word. “The Asylum. I went there. The um…one of the hitmen had worked for Strange.”

“Vicki explained. Is he behind everything? Is that why he attacked you? Or did he attack you because of something else? Or just because?”

“I don’t know,” whispered Victor. He thought about it for a second. His head pounded, the pain increasing as he tried to remember, but no images came. “He…something he said…I don’t know.”

“It’s ok. The doctor said the memories associated with right around the trauma might never return, even once everything else is back to normal.”

“And what was…was the trauma?”

As Roman spoke, Victor could hear the anger and bite to his words. “Some very crude and even more demented form of shock therapy than what it originally started as. I don’t know how many times you were put through it. But then Strange tried to slice your neck and kill you when Barsad and Vicki came.”

Victor didn’t remember that. He didn’t remember a single shock. Trying to just fucking hurt his head more. “Are you…are you looking for him—”

“Of course I am,” snapped Roman before Victor could even finish his sentence. “I’ll have people looking for him constantly until I find him, and I will snap his fucking neck myself—”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t? Victor, I am going to rip his limbs from his body, let him get eaten alive by rats! I will feed him his own fucking eyes for what he did to you—”

“I appreciate that,” murmured Victor. “I really do. But I need…need to kill him myself. Please.”

Victor could feel the disgruntled sigh that left Roman’s body. “Fine. I’ll make sure he’s brought in alive for you to eviscerate. It is only fair.”

“Thank you,” Victor sighed. “If he’s gone underground because of all this shit, you…you should find Alice. At O’Malley’s.”

“Why?”

“Strange has…has been keeping her alive. Some rare disease or shit. If he’s hiding, she’ll have to…to know where he is.”

“I’ll inform the proper people,” replied Roman. “I’ll fucking find him for you. Promise.”

Victor made a noise in the back of his throat, grateful for Roman’s words. For a moment, they just stayed on the floor, his hand still crushing Roman’s and his free one straining from how tight the fist was. He just couldn’t look at the wound or touch it. If he did so, he might try to do something risky again. But if he didn’t look or touch it then maybe he could get through this. He let out an involuntary whimper and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck do you have to be sorry for? He took what was fucking mine! He did this!”

“Not exactly useful like…this though.”

“You’ll be fine. You will. Just a few more days of full rest and you’ll be ok.”

“Doctor tell you that?” whispered Victor.

“He…argued you might not recover at all. Being unable to see the damage without proper testing,” admitted Roman. Within the words, Victor heard it even though it hadn’t been spelled out. Roman had been terrified of losing him.

“Sorry.”

“Stop fucking saying that.”

“Sorry,” Victor repeated. It was done a little on purpose. His lips quirked up. He could hear Roman’s slightly amused huff.

“Are you going to be alright if I get up?”

Victor hesitantly nodded.

“Just hold on then.”

Roman started to move and Victor finally leaned forward. Roman’s hand slowly untangled from Victor’s and he stood up. Roman went to grab some items and then held them out for Victor. “For your neck.”

He took it with shaking hands. As he pressed the fabric to his neck, he involuntarily gagged, simply being reminded of how wrong its placement was. He managed to keep the cloth there though, slowing the light bleeding and cleaning up what had run down his neck. Roman left the bathroom and came back with pajamas.

Victor threw the bloody cloth into the trash and stood up on shaking limbs. He at least managed to get his own clothes on. He took two steps—

It seemed his body had decided it had enough of working for him again. His legs started to buckle, but Roman caught him before he could hit the ground. He let out a frustrated growl.

“Hey, you’re already doing better. When you first woke up, you’d dragged yourself across the fucking apartment to get to the bathroom.” Roman pulled one of Victor’s arms over his shoulder and held on. He wrapped his other arm around Victor’s waist. Roman turned off the light. They tried to take several more steps, but Victor was just so god damn exhausted. He’d never been more tired in his life.

Roman let out a slight grunt. His grip around Victor’s waist tightened and he bent down and wrapped his other arm around the back of Victor’s knees. He scooped him up.

“You…did this before.” Victor had a vague recollection of that. From the first time he’d woken up if he wasn’t mistaken.

“Surprised?”

Victor made a noise in the back of his throat.

“Just because I like to have you do all the dirty work doesn’t mean I can’t do a little work myself. You are shorter than me. Though not as light as you seem considering how easily you move.”

Victor rolled his eyes. He immediately regretted it though and turned his face to Roman’s chest. He held him tight until he could feel the bed beneath him again. Roman must have placed him closer to the center of the bed because instead of completely letting go, he slipped in beside him.

Roman pulled him close and Victor gripped him in return. He could have easily fallen asleep then and there. He just wanted to fucking sleep. But as he held Roman, a horrible thought entered his mind.

“Roman?”

“Hmm?”

Victor found Roman’s face in the dark and carefully traced his cheekbone, his chin. That face, those eyes, he shuddered as the horrible thought stayed with him.

“What is it? Do I need to get someone—”

“No. I just…I need you to promise me something. Promise…if I don’t know you…if I can’t remember…if I lose my fucking mind…ever…I want you to kill me.”

He could feel Roman stiffen against him. “That’s not going to fucking happen. I won’t—”

“Don’t say shit like that. Just listen. Please. I…I saw you and I didn’t know you. I didn’t know myself. I can…can deal with broken bones and fucking torture-hell I would take losing a limb right now over how fucking terrible I feel. I can…can handle that. But if I don’t know what the marks on my body are…the stories behind them…if I can’t remember my own name and if I can’t remember you…I can’t live like that. I can’t live trapped in my own fucking head unable to even say anything.”

“Strange will never—”

“I’m not talking about Strange. I’m talking about…anyone. Or an accident. Or just…I can’t live without my mind. I can’t live not knowing I’m me.” The desperation at needing Roman to understand began to grow. Not many things scared Victor. He honestly would have claimed nothing scared him before this. But after having experienced it, he realized he would take anything in the world as long as he still knew what the tallies were, the bodies behind them. As long as he knew himself and Roman, he could survive. But those minutes or hours lost in nothingness? That feeling of looking and not knowing and being unable to access anything in his own mind, forgetting his own name? He couldn’t do that again. “Please, just please promise me—”

Roman finally interrupted him with a kiss, soft and just barely against Victor’s lips. “I promise. If it comes to that, I’ll do it myself.”

Victor let out a shuddering sigh. “Thank you.”

He curled in closer.

“I’ll get Strange and I’ll bring him straight to you. I’ll get whatever you need. The perfect place to work, whatever tools you require. I’ll make sure you have all the time in the world to do what you need to do.”

Victor hummed at the thought. It was a pleasing image, one that comforted him as he finally fell asleep in Roman’s arms.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally planned for something in this chapter but realized it needed it's own chapter so now we're at 24, yay! Hope you enjoy as always and apologies for breaking everyone's hearts <3

Victor had slept so deeply that Roman had slipped out of his arms without waking him. By the time Victor’s eyes had blearily opened, Roman was dressed and walking by. He paused mid-step when he saw Victor was moving. He walked over and leaned down, lips pressing to Victor’s forehead.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need me. Just try to rest.”

Victor nodded. He wanted to follow after Roman. He didn’t want to leave his side. But he wasn’t sure how long he could stand on his feet without feeling like he would pass out. He just gave into the heaviness that was still on his limbs and let his eyes slip shut again. He dozed in and out for a few more minutes. It was tempting to just sleep another whole day away. However, he wouldn’t get anywhere if he didn’t at least push his body a little bit.

With a tired sigh, he finally forced his eyes open and pushed himself up. He leaned back for a bit, just seeing how sitting up felt. When it seemed like he was going to be ok and he wouldn’t throw up, he started to turn and plant his feet on the floor.

Before attempting to walk anywhere, he checked the side table. His wallet and phone were there. So his belongings had been recovered from wherever he had been.

But what about his knives?

Victor screwed his eyes shut. He tried to breath in and out in smooth intervals before he finally pushed himself up. He took several steps and could feel his body tiring after only that. However, he pushed past the pain and discomfort and managed to get his body against a wall. The support helped a little, and at least this way, he was still standing.

He moved across the apartment at an excruciatingly slow pace before he finally got to the place where he’d stored all his knives.

His knees hit the ground harder than he’d intended them to, but at least he hadn’t straight up collapsed. He started to pull out his knives. He planned to look for the ones that he’d brought with him, to make sure they had all been collected and nothing had been lost. However, his head just started pounding again and he realized he couldn’t remember what knives he’d been carrying.

At least he could remember how many knives he had in total. He changed to just counting them. Thankfully, he could conclude that they were all there.

Holding each one, looking at the curves of the blades and the hard edges, it made the memories associated with each knife easier to dredge up. It comforted him, even if his hands still shook as he held each blade. Once the knives were put away, Victor gave himself a few more minutes to breathe. Then he slowly pushed himself back to his feet and made the painfully long journey to the kitchen.

When he and Roman had been in the hotel, they’d usually grabbed breakfast on the way to the club. The day they’d moved in, Victor had just automatically started making breakfast on most mornings. He’d done it for himself when he’d lived alone. He didn’t mind doing it for himself and Roman. He was pretty sure Roman knew jack shit about how to actually make anything considering his upbringing anyways.

However, when Victor was finally leaning against the counter and able to open the fridge, he found a wrapped plate of food.

Ok, Roman had definitely not made it. He’d probably gotten the cook for the club to come in real fucking early to make it instead. The gesture was no less kind though and very Roman. But first to see if Victor would be able to eat it and keep it down.

Victor still wasn’t sure how long it had been since his encounter with Strange. He would need to remember to ask Roman that next. He could tell that he was starving though.

He managed to put the plate on the counter and close the fridge. He poured a glass of water, quickly drank it, and then tried to figure out where he was going next. He didn’t have the strength to lean against the counter and just eat like he might have normally done. The dining table was farther away than the bed, though if he got crumbs in the bed, Roman would probably lose his god damn mind.

Though to be fair, if there was ever a time to do something that would normally annoy Roman and get away with it, that time was now.

Fuck it.

Victor took a deep breath and fully took his weight off the counter just to see how he was doing. Ok, not bad. He grabbed the plate and then carefully made his way back to the bed. It took a while, but he did get there. Even with how it tired him out, the more he walked around the more normal each motion felt, the more in control he was. Soon he was in bed again, leaning against the back, and resisting the urge to shovel food into his mouth.

He was trying to avoid throwing up after all.

For a while, he just focused on the food. He tried the safer options first. When his stomach stayed settle, he tried the ones that were more likely to upset it. When he still seemed ok, he decided to finish off the plate, though he continued to go at it with a slow pace.

When he was done, he set the plate to the side, leaned back, and closed his eyes again. He didn’t fall asleep. His limbs just rested as his mind tried to work.

He could tell that there was a lot that felt even clearer today. He wasn’t sure, but he would guess that once he had a reason to talk, he would be able to speak more quickly. Words would just come to him rather than him having to go through the grueling work of searching for them. What had happened before was a little clearer too. Crawling across the floor, the random worker that he’d probably scared shitless who’d been charged with watching him. That at least made Victor chuckle a bit. But going further back it was just—

Victor’s thoughts halted as he put a hand to his head and leaned over. His head started to pound as he tried to remember something his mind was still keeping from him. The pain started to increase exponentially—

He let out a shuddering sigh and slid down.

No more. He would try again later but…fuck. Trying to force himself to remember wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

After taking a moment to breath, Victor reached over and grabbed his phone. Dead. God damn it.

He pushed himself back up. At least this was a good work out for his body. His nerves didn’t seem to be on fire anymore and he could handle pushing his body just a little. It was only his mind that still seemed unwilling to cooperate.

Victor found the charger and plugged it in.

He got back in bed. Though he hadn’t planned to, he dozed off again. When he woke up, he rolled over and turned his phone back on. Unsurprisingly, a flurry of missed calls, texts, and voicemails popped up. All from Roman. Victor’s heart ached at having worried him like that. He hated how he had been so easily taken down. He just hadn’t expected it. He still couldn’t wrap his head around why Strange had done it. Yeah, they didn’t fucking like each other, but why jeopardize so much just to fuck with him? Strange had to have known Roman would find a way to get him back. So why?

Was he the one behind wanting to kill Roman?

Victor still couldn’t remember if he’d learned that or not, but just thinking on it now didn’t feel right. But as he tried to remember, the pain returned and Victor quickly gave up.

He focused back on the phone. He went ahead and deleted all the voicemails without looking at them. Same for the texts. He couldn’t bring himself to hear or see the anger and worry Roman must have been going through. If Victor had his way, he would make sure Roman never felt like that again.

Next, he checked the date and decided to try and work backwards to figure out how long it had been. He could remember the day he’d joined Vicki on her lunchbreak. Then he’d gone to O’Malley’s to talk to Alice. Then the asylum…

It seemed things started to get foggy that early afternoon before becoming completely blank. Then he’d woken up in this bed and dragged himself across the floor. So a full day of nothingness was there. He wasn’t sure when Roman had found him, so that either meant a full day in Strange’s hands or a full day passed out in the bed. Then he’d somewhat woken up the next day. Crawled around and thrown up and tried so fucking hard to remember anything. And then he’d woken up today. Clearer headed and more in control.

So two days between now and when he’d met with Vicki. Shit, so much fucking time wasted, and he still didn’t know who had tried to kill Roman.

Victor let out a tired sigh. He couldn’t do anything at the moment, so he just went to his gallery. He watched videos he’d taken of Roman, scrolled through what pictures he had. He could have just gone downstairs, but he didn’t want to look so fucking weak in front of others. Besides, Roman would be back up eventually. Victor could satiate himself with just images for now.

Almost an hour passed. It was close to noon and Victor was about ready to make a slow walk to the bathroom and then back to the kitchen for some more water when he heard someone inside the apartment. His ears were able to pick up that the walk pattern was wrong. It wasn’t Roman.

Victor was immediately on edge. His heart beat a little quicker despite how logically, he knew he couldn’t be in danger. A threat would have had to go through everyone downstairs before getting to him and Roman wouldn’t have allowed that. Still, he tried to think of a weapon to use just in case. His knives were too far away. The plate? He could break it into shards. He grabbed it just in case as a person finally came around the corner and into view.

It was an old man with a leather bag in hand.

“Who the fuck are you?” growled Victor. At least he knew that he could speak freely again, words no longer catching on his tongue or getting lost in his mind.

“Dr. Bradford Thorne, here as a courtesy from Falcone. I’ve already treated you once before.”

Victor gently placed the plate back down. Roman had to have let him up. Yet Victor still felt on edge looking at the man. He supposed that was less because of who he was. The guy was old as shit. Even in Victor’s current state, he would have bet on himself to win in a fight against the guy. His unease came more from the simple fact that he wasn’t partial to the title of ‘doctor’ at the moment.

Dr. Thorne actually seemed to pick up on that. He flashed a large smile that didn’t seem to fit the situation as he said, “I assure you, no crude experimentations like my colleague Dr. Strange. Only a simple checkup. You have already made a remarkable recovery.”

“Why did you say you were a courtesy of Falcone?”

“Oh, I work for him directly. But considering how effective Mr. Sionis has been in making this place a viable business, both as a simple club and its role within the family, Falcone thought it right I help as you clearly couldn’t be taken to a hospital. Besides, Falcone may dislike using your particular talents, but he still has no intention of letting them go to waste.”

Victor slowly nodded. He pushed himself up as Dr. Thorne drew closer. The doctor sat on the bed and popped open the leather bag.

“Alright, a simple one to start with. Please follow the light with your eyes.”

Victor followed the instructions. Having the bright light shined directly into his eyes hurt his head, but he apparently did well enough as Dr. Thorne murmured, “Good, good. As for the red in your one eye, that will slowly fade. You did experience quite a bit of hemorrhaging though. It’ll take about half a month before it’s completely gone. Now, for your neck…hmm. You’ve messed up the stitching I see.”

It was difficult controlling his gag reflex. So far, Victor had been able to push that issue to the back of his mind. With it brought forth though, he immediately felt sick again.

“Ah yes, I believe I’ve heard of your particular obsession. There are treatments you know. Lasers can do wonders with helping scar removals.”

“But not completely, right? Not for one this deep?” questioned Victor.

“Well likely no—”

“Yeah, no fucking thanks. I would still know it had been there anyways.”

“Suit yourself.” Dr. Thorne drew closer and Victor resisted the urge to protect himself. It wasn’t Strange. He just had to suck it up. Dr. Thorne spoke as he looked at Victor’s neck. “Hmm, no need to fix them, but I would ask you to try and not bother them again. The scarring will only be worse if you do.”

Victor gave a slight nod. Dr. Thorne turned to look in his bag for a second and Victor finally said, “I can’t remember what actually happened.”

“Trauma is a tricky thing. It’s possible those memories won’t ever recover. Though to be fair, I wondered if you would recover at all. You were completely unresponsive the day before yesterday.”

“Then I was with Strange…”

“For approximately eight hours give or take. I would guess being experimented on for about four of those hours, though I can’t say for sure.”

“And then I slept a full day away?”

“Oh no, you woke up in the early hours of the morning while I was treating you.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“No, of course not. I said you were awake for a time, but no one was home.”

Victor shuddered. It made him even more thankful that he’d gotten Roman to agree to his request. No, he didn’t want to ever get fucking stuck like that again. And if it was permanent? He sure as shit wouldn’t want to live like that.

“We’re going to check your reflexes next. Don’t worry. I don’t expect them to be as fast as they normally would be. Just checking for any permanent damage.”

Victor continued with the minimal tests. According to Dr. Thorne, he did fine on all, some results being expected and others being closer to normal. It was dull and annoying, but at least it gave Victor an idea of how much farther he had to go before he made a full recovery.

At the end of it, Dr. Thorne put away his tools. “The best I can prescribe is plenty of rest for the next couple of days before you resume anything close to normal activities. Anything you would like to add? Any pains? Any sensations you would like explained?”

Victor thought about it for a second. “Body fucking hurts. Less now. But yesterday I felt like I was on fire.”

“That would be because of the involuntary contractions brought on by the shocks. Due to the amount and length of the shocks, your muscles are also trying to heal from their own trauma of being constricted and relaxed in incredibly irregular cycles. As long as the pain is slowly decreasing and there isn’t any part of your body that is proving monumentally more painful than the rest, you should be fine.”

“And my head?”

“Again, you had a dangerously high voltage going through your brain. But…” Dr. Thorne trailed off. He looked in his bag for a second before pulling a small pill bottle out. He snapped his bag shut. “These should help. With the muscles too. Don’t take more than one every eight hours. Obviously, if something changes, have Mr. Sionis get in contact with me right away. But I should warn you. I am not interested in indulging in any addictions. If that’s what you’re interested in, go to a drug dealer. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Dr. Thorne put the pill bottle on the side table and got up. “I believe we’re done then. Good day Mr. Zsasz. Here’s to your continued recovery. And don’t worry,” he said with one last, oddly placed chuckle, “no need to see me out.”

Dr. Thorne left. Victor didn’t move until he was sure he was gone. Then he reached over and looked at the pills. There was a fake name for the prescription on the bottle. Victor briefly wondered how many of these Dr. Thorne had in his bag before he put the bottle back. He’d been in bed for a while now. A fair amount of energy had returned, and he managed to get to the kitchen with little issue. He drank some more water and then went to the restroom.

He tried to avoid looking in the mirror. When it came to washing his hands though, every glance up showed he couldn’t help but zero in on the stitching.

It was off. Off off _off_ —

No! He wasn’t doing this. He forced his hands back down and dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands. He momentarily caught sight of it again—

Victor punched the wall as hard as he could. He focused on the momentary pain in his hand as his head started pounding. The marks were off. Fucking off! He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to slowly move out of the bathroom and back to the bed. He collapsed on it when he got there. He popped the cap off the pill bottle and went ahead and swallowed one. Then he grabbed the covers and pulled them up, covering up his hands to help lessen the urge.

Roman found him like that about half an hour later, curled up and pale.

“Did something happen?” Roman quickly came over as Victor pushed himself up.

Victor shook his head. “No. Just the doctor—”

“I should have warned you he was coming up. Wait? Did he do something? Falcone’s man or not, I’ll fucking skin him myself if he—”

“Nothing like that. Just he um…reminded me about my neck. And then I saw it in the mirror and…I’ve been fighting the urge to fuck with it since then.”

Roman checked the time. “I don’t have a meeting until three. Move over.”

Victor did. Roman kicked off his shoes and sat next to Victor. He pulled Victor into his arms so that Victor was resting partially on him and against his chest. Then he moved one hand to cover the wound on Victor’s throat as he slowly stroked Victor’s chin. It did help, Victor’s mind focusing on the warmth and placement of Roman’s hand rather than the actual feel of the stitching. He sighed into the touch. His body relaxed and his muscles uncoiled.

“You seem better than yesterday.”

“I feel better. Like shit. But better shit now.”

Roman chuckled at that. He continued to stroke Victor like one might stroke a pet. After a moment, he asked, “Can I do anything to help?”

“You being here helps,” admitted Victor. “I think you helped bring me back.”

“What do you mean?”

“When nothing else made sense, I at least managed to lock onto you. I couldn’t remember you at first, and I never want to fucking go through that again. But at least I could tell you were important. It eventually led me to your name.”

“I’m glad. I’ll drag you out of hell.”

“Already did,” hummed Victor. He let one of his arms drape around Roman’s waist. He kept him close and Roman didn’t even complain about his clothes getting wrinkled. The moment was a nice change of pace. Victor was glad he could also just enjoy it, being mostly himself now.

After a while, Roman murmured, “I’d still like to help.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I could ask Barsad to take the next person who’s going outside for a smoke, who’s going to the bathroom, who’s leaving the club all alone. Barsad could bring them up here for you and you could cut their throat.”

Victor understood what Roman was getting at. He could fix his marks. Then and there. Victor wouldn’t even had to do much. Just one slice and it would be done. The marks would be back in place. He could fucking breath again. Only—

“I can’t.”

“There some unknown rule I don’t know about?”

“No, nothing like that. Like I told you, this hasn’t happened before. And I do remember talking about that. By the way. I don’t think I did yesterday, but I remember now. How it was one of our first conversations. You pointing a knife at me and asking what would happen if you cut me in that restaurant.”

Roman made a pleased noise and continued the petting motions. “So why not fix them now?”

“It just…it wouldn’t be their mark. I guess it would fix the issue, but I would always know that body was a substitute for the mark.” As Victor spoke, an idea finally came to his mind. “Strange made the mark. It’s his,” Victor whispered. Even with Strange still alive and breathing, simply knowing what he’d need to do brought a new sense of peace over him. “I’ll kill Strange and his mark will belong to the right body. It’ll be fixed. I’ll be whole.”

“He quite literally signed his own death warrant then.”

It was hard not to laugh a little at that.

Roman kissed the top of his head before continuing the soft petting. “I’ll make sure he’s caught. I passed along that information by the way, involving Alice. She and Strange have momentarily disappeared. The bar has shut down. Partially because of Vicki I might add, though I did ask her to do it.”

“What did she do?”

“Wrote an article tying the crime scene to Strange. There had already been some backlash against him because of the association to Thomas Wayne and the crimes committed at the old asylum, but again, most people had focused on the Wayne’s at that point. Now that there’s proof, the police are looking for Strange as well. If they find him first, that’s perfectly fine. I’ll have some people break in and deliver him to you.”

“And if he leaves Gotham first?”

“Doubtful. His work is too scattered for him to leave right away. He’ll need to find it first. And I’m sure he won’t abandon it considering his own urgency to take all his notes is what botched your attempted murder. Vicki does have a journal of his too that she’s going over to find his other labs. If the police don’t catch him first, she definitely will.”

A flash of…something happened in Victor’s head. It hurt so fucking much that for a moment, he could only squeeze his eyes shut and cling to Roman. Talk about the painkillers doing jack shit. After a moment, the pain didn’t fully pass, but he was able to say, “Did she find me?”

“She connected a note to one of the labs. If she hadn’t, they might not have arrived in time. And Barsad managed to slow the bleeding when they did find you. They both kept you alive. I am incredibly indebted to them for that.”

That sounded right, though trying to think of it just caused Victor’s head to pound even more. He pushed the thoughts away and simply stayed content in Roman’s arms.

Roman added, “We found out that Alice has a brother as well, Jervis Tetch. He hasn’t gone underground. Do you think pressuring him would help us find Alice and then Strange?”

“Definitely. I rarely talked to the guy, but he worked with Strange and did pretty much anything to make sure his sister got the treatment she needed. He may not know where they are right now, but he’ll definitely know how to get into contact with Alice.”

“I’ll tell the right people to start looking that way then.” Roman checked the time again. “I still have almost an hour before I have to go. Is there anything you need?”

“Just you. Just for you to stay like this,” murmured Victor as his eyes slipped shut and Roman continued the soft petting motions.

Roman leaned over and kissed the top of Victor’s head again. “I can do that.” And he did.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy!

The next day for Victor proved better again.

After Roman left, Victor went to take a shower. He found that the mirror had been covered as he walked into the bathroom. It couldn’t stop him from feeling the stitches on his neck. It couldn’t stop him from simply knowing what was there. But it was a kind gesture from Roman, and it helped to not see the healing wound.

Victor managed to remain standing with little issue for the entire shower. His limbs felt a little tired, but he’d gotten through it. He even felt well enough to get dressed and go downstairs before lunch. He went to see Roman in the office rather than just waiting for him to pop back up when he had the time. Victor still retired relatively quickly after seeing him. It was good though. He was getting better. Everything was except for his head.

He tried again to remember what had happened.

There was useful information there. He just knew it. But after almost thirty minutes of an excruciating pain that only increased with time, he had to pop a pill and just rest. He couldn’t give up. It didn’t matter that the doctor had said the memories may never return. Victor couldn’t let Roman down like that. He had to remember, but how to get past that initial wall of pain? He didn’t know.

Victor stayed upstairs for the rest of the day.

He made himself lunch. It was a simple way to see how reflexes and reaction times were coming along. He wasn’t as fast in his movements, but he was getting there. It also gave him back a little independence, made him feel like he would be useful again soon.

After eating, he revisited his knives. He looked them over and twisted them in his hands. He needed to work back up to that same natural feeling of speed and movement, but it felt good having them in his hands again. It would feel even better when he could use them. When he could fix his tallies and put everything back into line.

Besides that, he eventually went through his belongings and found an old book he’d never finished.

They still needed to put in a TV so Victor resigned himself to reading. He didn’t really collect anything besides his knives. Usually after finishing a book, he threw it away or tossed it to the side or just left it where he had finished it and never picked it up again. This one he’d seen a young lady reading on the steps of a library once. This was right before he’d come to Gotham actually. The cover was ruined with old, dried blood from that encounter.

It was just something to do, though oddly he felt the pain in his head flair up at the occasional random passage. He just popped another pill after a while to ease the fire.

He was still reading it as night came. Roman had retired earlier the night before despite how the club didn’t close until a few hours later. It seemed like he might not be coming back that early tonight, only Victor suddenly heard footsteps arrive. They weren’t Roman’s but he had begun to recognize the pattern.

Victor said her name just before she rounded the corner. “Vicki.”

She held the black skull in one hand against her hip. “You’re reading.”

Victor snorted.

“What?”

“You sound like you came in here and found me painting the Minnie fucking Lisa. I can read you know. I even eat sometimes too.”

Vicki rolled her eyes. “Mona Lisa,” she corrected.

“Whatever. Besides, it’s a fun read. It’s about a mother who kills her son.”

“Only you would describe that as fun.”

“Hey, you might like it.”

“Give me the opposite where it’s the kid who kills his parents, and I may reconsider.”

Victor laughed. It felt good to laugh. He watched as Vicki’s face softened a bit.

“You look better,” she said.

“Getting there. You missed the part where I tried to crawl across the floor and threw up on myself.”

“Lucky me.”

Victor tossed the book to the side. “So why the hell are you here?”

“There’s a meeting with Falcone and the other dons. Roman’s been invited to join. I’m accompanying him.”

“Hang on a fucking second.” Victor immediately tried to get up, but Vicki easily stepped forward and kicked him in the chest. His back hit the wall above the bed.

“And that is why you’re not going because normally there would be no way in hell that I would get away with that.”

“I should be at Roman’s side.” Victor automatically tried to get up again. However, Vicki managed to force him back into the bed even easier this time. It was a little embarrassing.

“Victor, I am not trying to take your place on Roman’s dick. Calm the fuck down.”

He glared at her.

“I’m being fucking honest! Ok? You have made a remarkable recovery so far, but we both know that you’re not at top form yet. Now, is anything going to happen at the meeting? Unless one of the other dons is fucking dumb enough to make a move on Falcone when all his supporters are around him, no, nothing’s going to fucking happen. This is purely business and a little bit of show. You don’t give two shits about the business side of things whereas I could actually have input if needed, and as for the second part, you can’t pull that off if halfway through the meeting you break into a sweat and have to ask to sit down. So suck it up, lay down and keep recovering, and I am going to go to the god damn meeting Victor.”

He stared at her for several long, silent seconds as he tried to read her face. He leaned back a little and couldn’t help the breathless laugh that escaped his lips. “You actually care.”

“Yes.”

“About me?”

“Yes,” groaned Vicki. “Don’t make me say it again.”

“You realize that if you suddenly stopped being interesting, I wouldn’t have a problem with killing you, right? Even while interesting, if Roman suddenly decided you were a liability and gave the order, I would still kill you with ease.”

“I realize how fucked up it is Victor. You don’t have to remind me.”

“Then you do care! Ah, I think beneath all that abuse as a child, murders you’ve committed, and rage, you are secretly very sweet.”

“I never should have admitted anything.”

Victor just grinned.

“Fuck off.”

“Never.”

“Great. I’m stuck with you for life, huh?”

“I mean from the sounds of it, you could have let me die.”

“Not an option.”

“Then yes, stuck with me for life.”

“Lucky me,” Vicki repeated. It didn’t sound as sarcastic as the first time.

It was an amusing turn and Victor was glad for Vicki’s admittance in his own way. And he supposed that if he had to choose anyone besides himself, it would choose Vicki to be at Roman’s side. Since he had decided to cave, he asked, “When are you getting back?”

“Probably late. Close to midnight or one. Depends on traffic too. We’ll be fine Victor. You focus on getting better.”

“Fine, fine. Hope it goes well,” Victor said.

Vicki nodded in agreement. “I best get going. Roman was going to come up and tell you, but he’s in the middle of a call. Figured I’d check on you while I had the chance.”

“Yeah, well I needed to say thank you anyways.” He caught sight of her slight smile as she turned away.

“Good night Victor.”

“Night.”

With Vicki gone, Victor went ahead and grabbed a late-night bite. He went to the restroom, went back to reading the book for a bit, took a pill an hour early as his head started to pound, and then finally went to bed. He expected to wake up as Roman came in. Or maybe it would be a deep enough sleep that he would wake in the morning with Roman already curled in at his side. That’s what he thought would happen as he drifted into the black.

Instead, he woke up screaming.

Victor scrambled out of bed. Somehow he’d fallen on the floor, his back against the side of the bed as his hand clutched at his chest. He wanted to shut his mind down. Everything was on fire. It hurt so god damn much, but before he could automatically stop it, he tried to take control and push past.

Involuntary tears fell down his face. He pressed his face against his knees and screamed and screamed—

But it was there! It was right fucking there!

Strange’s face flashed behind the lids of his eyes.

He could feel his entire body constricting, just like with each shock.

There was Strange, writing information down, grabbing his chin and moving his face back and forth.

Victor’s mouth was slack. He couldn’t speak. He could only scream as the next shock hit him.

_This where you do your big villain speech?_

What little control he still had he used to struggle against his restraints. He pulled and pulled, right up until the next shock came and his back left the table. He arched upwards to a painful degree before his body slammed down.

The hard plastic that kept him from biting down on his own tongue came out. Strange’s face loomed over him. Victor tried to speak. Drool just fell from the corner of his mouth and the hard piece went back in. The instruments touched the side of his head and Victor was screaming again as his entire body shook.

_You won’t remember a thing._

He couldn’t get out. Not just from the restraints, but his own body. He couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t control anything. He was trapped. He couldn’t get out! He was stuck in the dark and the nothingness, only broken up by the sudden pain that ran through his head and contorted his entire body.

He screamed and screamed and then a blade suddenly cut into his neck and down and he couldn’t even fucking breath—

Victor scrambled over and grabbed the book.

His entire body was shaking. Drenched in sweat and head pounding so god damn hard that even in the dark room, flashes of light kept going off in his eyes. But Victor kept pushing through it all.

He was so close! It was right there. Just there.

What was it? What had triggered it? Something that was vaguely similar, that had managed to drag the memories into nightmares-what the fuck was it!

_It’s about a mother who kills her son._

A mother…parents…Roman’s parents…

Victor dropped his head and screamed into the covers despite how raw his throat was. He just barely had it. Roman’s parents were trying to kill him. He couldn’t-he couldn’t fucking remember why. But the people who had tried to have Roman killed were…were…

Who was it—

“Ahhhhh!!!”

No! It was all wrapped up in one mess. The words, the knowledge, the shocks, the restraints, the pain, Strange’s fucking face. He couldn’t remember one without the others. His brain tried to shut down, tried to block it all out and protect itself, but he fought it.

Victor scrambled for his phone. He called Roman.

It went straight to voicemail.

Wait…why would it…

Victor could barely focus as he looked to the time. Roman should be…he should be home now. Or almost home. Or…or…

Why was his phone off? Or dead? Or whatever?

Victor tried to call again, but the same result happened. He tried to call Vicki. When he got the same result, his heart clenched up. Roman needed to know now! Where was he? Where was—

Another scream ripped through Victor’s head. His vision went completely white for a second as it felt like someone was dragging an axe through his skull. He could barely breath it hurt so much.

As his vision started to clear, he reached for his phone again only to see the sign of a waiting voicemail. He struggled to pull it up but finally managed.

“In case you’re still awake, or you wake up—” It was Vicki. “—there’s been a change of plans.”

It sounded like the phone might have changed hands. Then Roman’s voice came in clearer. “The meeting went fine. But my parents called about some late-night bullshit. Something about me having to be present when they officially sign me out of the will? Why they can’t do it at a normal fucking time, who the hell knows with my parents. This could be something else entirely, but if there’s even a slight chance of completely taking me out of their life, I’ll do it. If they lied, we’ll leave right away. I’ll be home soon either way Victor.”

Roman hung up for Vicki and that was it.

No. No no _no no **no!!!**_

Victor pushed himself up and across the apartment. His legs tripped over himself. His head didn’t stop, still trying to shut him down to stop the pain. The flashes kept coming. His vision was so goddamn blurry. His throat raw from the cries that left it. But he kept fucking going, despite how he was drenched in sweat or how his body wouldn’t stop fucking shaking.

He got dressed in the first things he could find. He grabbed several knives. Then he went downstairs, body fully leaning against the wall because otherwise he would have collapsed.

Victor got to the ground floor of the club. The first worker that saw him jolted. Their voice shook as they said, “I-I don’t think you should be out of—”

“Fuck off!” Victor grabbed his face and pushed him away. Useless. Where was security? Where was-there! Victor dragged himself over, leaning against or grabbing anything to support him. Victor held out his hand as he stopped in front of the security guard for the club. “Gun, now.”

“I don’t think I—”

“Now!”

The man jolted and finally handed it over. Victor grabbed it and stared the man down, teeth bared. He automatically leaned back. No, he wouldn’t be any help. Where was—

“Barsad!” barked Victor. The man turned. Victor quickly advanced and grabbed his shirt with a free hand. He spoke quickly, like if he wasted too much time, his mind would fully shut him down and he would collapse. “You don’t like how I do things. You probably give two shits about me, think of me as psychotic, but you didn’t hesitate to save me because you’re a loyal fucking dog. You’ll do your job. Right?!”

Barsad’s eyes quickly took him in. He was probably assessing if Victor had gone completely fucking mad or if there was any reason behind this. He finally said, “Yes.”

“Good! Then you can drive me. We need to leave. Now!”

Barsad followed close behind as Victor struggled. “What’s the situation?”

“Roman’s parents-his parents are the ones trying to kill—” Victor had to stop as he suddenly couldn’t see anything anymore. He felt Barsad grab him as his knees caved. Victor pushed past the pain and managed to get his feet flat on the ground again. He shrugged Barsad off and continued out of the club.

“You’re remembering what Strange said?”

“Parts,” grunted Victor as they left the club. “It-I can’t remember the fucking reasoning. The um…other words! It all happens at once but I-it’s his fucking parents and Vicki left a voicemail saying they were going to the goddamn estate and both their phones are off and I have to do something—”

“I believe you,” Barsad calmly said as they stopped at his car. “But maybe you should sit this—”

“I’m not fucking abandoning him!”

“Ok.” Barsad opened the door for Victor. “But I ask that you let me take point once inside.”

Victor just went ahead and agreed. His brain could barely function right now. It was probably the safer option anyways. Really, he should just let Barsad handle this, but he couldn’t bare to leave Roman. He’d gotten fucking captured by Strange. He’d fucked up. He couldn’t fuck this up to. He had to get to Roman and now!

Barsad slammed the door, went to the other side, and got in. He turned out of the parking lot hard enough to cause marks on the pavement as he sped through the city. Victor couldn’t give clear enough directions, but he did tell Barsad the address. Barsad got directions on his phone and was soon weaving in between cars as best he could. He took a few routes that he knew would be less trafficked, managing to make better time as he sped through the night and finally got off the island of Gotham. Then his foot really hit the floor of his car.

When they were almost upon it though, Victor held up his hand and said, “They’ll see us coming if we go straight through the-the gate. Pull over about here.”

Barsad listened and they were soon getting out. Victor pointed them in the right direction and then with Barsad’s help, they made it through the wooded area that surrounded the estate. They got to the walling and Barsad easily scaled it. He assessed the area and then reached down to help pull Victor up and over.

“Any idea where they could be?” Barsad softly asked.

Victor shook his head. It was taking all his energy to keep from screaming out loud now. It all just hurt so fucking much. Strange’s face flashed in front of his eyes again. His body contorting from the shocks—

Victor pushed past the memories and somehow managed to not fall flat on his face as he followed Barsad. They found an open window and both slipped in. It seemed like they might have to try searching each room before finding Roman. However, after leaving their current room for the next, they came across a maid.

She almost screamed, but Barsad grabbed her and wrapped his arms around his neck.

“Where is Roman Sionis?” he whispered.

“The—”

“Say it softer. Where?”

“The library,” she whispered as tears started to pop up in her eyes.

“Is there an entrance where we wouldn’t immediately be visible?”

“T-The second floor? I think. The library has a balcony around it. T-They’re on the ground floor. P-Please—”

“Where is it?”

She told them and Barsad immediately broke her neck before gently placing the body on the ground. At least he understood the risk of keeping her alive, even if she was probably an innocent in all this. Victor would have killed her anyways if Barsad hadn’t.

They slowly went through the house and up to the second floor. They ran into another worker, but this one Victor killed with a little help from Barsad. Victor stabbed her and Barsad covered her mouth before she could scream. They both gently guided her body to the ground. Victor cut into his shoulder as he followed Barsad close behind.

Victor’s head was still pounding, but he really forced himself to handle it now. He was so close. He could collapse afterwards as the fire raged through his brain. He could let himself shut down then. But only after Roman was safe. Only after this was finally fucking over.

Barsad stayed low as he slipped through a door. He then gestured for Victor to follow. Barsad very carefully closed the door behind Victor before both stayed crouched behind the table nearest them. The library was massive. The table they were near held some kind of artsy shit in a glass. They stayed low as they took in everything in front of them.

Victor just barely recognized someone from the club. He must have driven Roman though he was now dead on the ground with a bullet in his head. Why? Had he tried to do something really fucking stupid? Or had it just been a show of power, for Roman’s parents to prove they meant business? Victor wasn’t sure. But Roman was still alive. Vicki was alive. Men with hired guns stood around them while Roman’s parents stood about two feet in front of Roman and Vicki. Roman’s and Vicki’s phones, along with her guns, were on a table to the side.

They had been talking and Roman continued to talk as Victor and Barsad watched from the second floor.

“…just because you want to be the sad, mourning parents and get some added screen time? Some fucking press? That’s why!?”

Mr. Sionis spoke. “We are trying to save this family name, and you have brought nothing but scorn. At least this way, you can be remembered as the troubled young man you are and not—”

“How is it that you have the most boring, stupid ass reason to kill me! You couldn’t have thought of anything more inventive?!”

Victor would have laughed if he could. Of course Roman would be insulted with the reason and not the actual fact that his parents were planning to kill him.

Mr. Sionis’ voice actually rose for the first time that Victor could remember. “You will not interrupt me.”

“You’ve got five guns pointed at me! I’m going to fucking interrupt you if I want! I have stayed silent by you my whole fucking life! And you know what? I’m not going to fuck die like that—”

Mr. Sionis took the necessary steps forward and slapped Roman hard. Vicki tensed, but there wasn’t anything she could do if she didn’t want to get shot.

Barsad very softly said, “I’m moving to the other side. I can at least take down two before the other three retaliate. That should give Vicki enough time to get her gun, hopefully take down at least one. Can you split their attention and get one from here? Distract the others?”

Victor automatically nodded. Though…

Fuck! He was shaking so much, but he couldn’t let Roman down. Barsad was already moving, staying low and staying quiet. Thankfully, all eyes were on Roman and his parents.

Roman slowly looked back up at his father, his cheek red from the hit. A growl escaped Roman’s throat and Mrs. Sionis said, “Death is too easy for you. We’ll of course arrange for a terrible car accident to have happened, but you’ll be going to Dr. Strange. Payment for the help he’s done in taking care of your little friend.”

Roman’s eyes widened. “You’re the reason Strange attacked Victor?!”

“Yes, and with him gone, we could finally take-stop it. Roman, stop fucking laughing.” Mrs. Sionis continued to bristle. “I said stop it! Richard, hit him again!”

As Mr. Sionis hit his son again and abruptly stopped the mad laughter, Victor tried to raise his gun at the nearest hired man. But his hand was shaking too much. He couldn’t keep him in his line of sight. And if he couldn’t even hold this arm steady, no way in hell could he throw a knife instead. What to do! He could-oh fuck. It would be risky, but it just might work. He moved slightly over to get a better position.

Roman looked back up at his father. “You think he’s dead. You don’t know that he’s alive. Of course you don’t! Strange probably hasn’t been in contact with you yet!”

“What do you mean?” asked Mr. Sionis, his voice dangerously low.

Roman didn’t respond. He just grinned at Mr. Sionis. Roman couldn’t know. He couldn’t be aware that they were there and yet—

Was it simply faith? Did Roman trust him that much that he believed Victor would have figured it out? Or remembered? Or just gone with a gut instinct no matter what his head was trying to tell him? With that much faith in him, Victor knew he really couldn’t let Roman down now.

Victor looked up and found Barsad again. He watched him give a signal. It was time.

Mr. Sionis was still talking. “Explain yourself—” But he was abruptly cut off as Barsad finally unloaded a shot. Vicki reacted immediately. Her body started to move to her guns. Victor grabbed the railing with one hand while holding his gun in the other.

Barsad’s first bullet continued to travel through the air. Victor pushed himself over and towards the nearest guy. Vicki’s right, then left hand, grabbed her two guns.

The bullet pierced the man’s skull. Blood spattered back as the knees went weak and the body started to fall. Vicki had her guns and turned on the hitmen, pulling both triggers at one. Victor made contact with the man underneath him, using the body to break his fall.

As the first body finally hit the ground, Barsad shot his second bullet. It went straight for the next head while Vicki’s bullets found their way to her target. The bones of the man underneath Victor broke, and Victor didn’t have to worry about how much his hands were shaking as he pressed the barrel of the gun to the man’s temple and pulled the trigger.

Barsad’s second target fell. Vicki’s target fell too as she spun her body around and pointed one gun at Mr. Sionis and the other at Mrs. Sionis. Victor launched himself at the last one and time finally sped up again.

Normally, Victor wouldn’t have had a problem. Considering his state though, it wasn’t surprising that his gun got knocked out of his hand. He managed to grab one of his knives instead and just started stabbing. At any other time, he would have been able to find the point to take the man down without much of a struggle, but in this instance, he just stabbed the man in the chest again and again until he finally stopped moving. His arm and front were drenched in blood as he pushed himself off the guy and his back fell against a pillar. That knife dropped from his hands as he grabbed another. He managed to cut the two necessary marks into his skin before his strength gave and he had to drop that knife too.

Barsad walked around the balcony area. He opened and checked the doors on the second floor to see if there was anyone else running to the aide of Roman’s parents. When he found nothing, he went to the nearest ladder, holstered his gun, and slid down. He pulled his gun out again and gave a quick sweep of the area.

Mr. Sionis had taken several steps back as the firefight had occurred. Roman had barely moved. His eyes carefully went over the display, only really stopping on Victor. He walked over to him and knelt beside him, drawing a soft, gentle kiss from his lips.

“You did well. Don’t worry, you can rest soon,” murmured Roman.

Victor leaned into the slight touches before completely slouching against the pillar. Roman started to walk back to his father.

“It seems you miscalculated.”

“No—”

“For one thing, Strange fucked up with Victor. As you can clearly see. And as for everything else? You saw me as so much of a failure, that you never considered the other people I surrounded myself with a threat at all,” Roman said as he gestured towards Vicki and Barsad. “You didn’t think I would be successful. You thought I would make an ass out of myself, but I’m going to be more successful than you could ever fucking be.”

“You are my son! You cannot do this to us!”

Roman held his hand out towards Vicki. She handed him one of her guns.

“But I am. You said you wanted me to come so that way you could officially remove me from the will? Consider this official.”

Roman brought the gun up and pulled the trigger. Victor managed to see how giddy Roman immediately became. Victor could only imagine how many times Roman had thought about retaliating against his father, and now he had retaliated in the most final of ways. Victor’s lids started to slip closed. He could tell his mind was finally starting to shut down, blocking out the memories and the trauma and the words and Strange’s fucking face.

To Mrs. Sionis’ credit, she didn’t scream. Instead, she plastered on that sickeningly sweet smile. “Roman, sweetheart. You know I only did what I had to do. None of this is my fault. You wouldn’t shoot me. Would you?”

Roman took several steps towards her. His eyes flickered to something behind her. He let out a tired sigh and dropped the gun. “You know, you’re right mother. I can’t do that. Shooting you would just be too easy.”

He dropped the gun. As it hit the ground, he shoved his mother back with both hands and she fell into the fireplace. Her screams were earsplittingly loud. She tried to pull herself out as her hair and dress immediately caught on fire. Roman kicked her back in. He gestured towards Barsad and with his help, Mrs. Sionis burned alive, her body going limp and some of the fire traveling onto the carpet.

“Do you want us to put it out?” asked Vicki.

Roman thought about it for a second. “No. Better if this whole place goes up in flames. Barsad, you’re with me. You, get Victor home. Make sure he’s taken care of.”

Vicki nodded. She walked over but Victor’s eyes were only focused on Roman. He was ok. Victor had succeeded. He finally let his body and mind go limp as exhaustion took him.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am sorry to say I decided to cut down on one chapter. Just in finishing this one, I realized I could wrap everything up next chapter and I do know exactly how I want to end this. That being said, though this story was obviously planned as a multi-chapter fic, I did not plan to make it this long and I am really proud with the novel sized story I'm finishing up with. Thank you to everyone who has left a comment or a kudo or just popped in to check this story out. I'll try to get the last chapter out soon. In the mean time, hope you enjoy this chapter <3

Victor felt lips press against his temple. Fingers carefully traced the features of his face. He turned his head back and lips met his. As the arms pulled him closer and the lips moved back, Victor’s eyes fluttered open.

“We’re home?”

“Home,” agreed Roman.

Victor’s eyes slipped shut again as he sighed into the touch. For a moment, he just enjoyed the feeling. He turned a bit more in Roman’s arms. When he opened his eyes, he was face to face with Roman. Victor reached up and traced Roman’s jawline. His hands weren’t shaking, but he felt exhausted. His throat was raw. “What happened?”

“What do you remember?”

“I went to the estate. Had um…Barsad take me. I…I knew your parents were trying to kill you. I know they were, but I can’t quite remember how I…”

Roman picked up on the slight pain that flashed behind Victor’s eyes. He pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh, you don’t need to try and piece it together. Let yourself forget what Strange fucking did to you. I’ll tell you what happened.”

And Roman did. Victor was told everything that had happened just the night before. He started to remember pieces too. He remembered killing a random worker, two hired men. He remembered Roman killing his parents in retaliation for what they had done. He knew Strange had told him something. That he’d gotten the knowledge of Roman’s parents from Strange, but his actual memories surrounding those events had been blocked again. He vaguely remembered screaming too. Screaming a lot before he’d found Barsad. He…he’d remembered other parts of those missing hours. But his mind wasn’t letting him access those memories anymore. This time, Victor didn’t try to fight it.

He would listen to Roman. Best to forget all that shit.

Some of the first things Roman spoke of was the stupid fucking reasoning his parents had concocted. Victor heard about the set up and who they’d hired and how it had all gone down, most of which they had lauded over Roman before Victor had arrived. Some of that Strange might have explained to Victor too, but by letting Roman fill him in, he wasn’t bringing up the trauma and torture as a byproduct.

Roman stayed propped up above him while he told his story, stroking his cheek and face and neck. So fucking possessive. He told Victor through touch alone just how much of his he was. No one was going to try and take Victor away from him. His parents were gone. Soon, Strange would be too. If anyone else tried in the future, if anyone else was stupid enough to think the two of them could ever be separated, then Victor and Roman would also fucking eviscerate them.

“And that’s that,” Roman said as he finished with how he’d pushed his mother into the fire, had allowed said fire to spread, and had gotten Vicki and Barsad to switch. “Vicki got you here. Barsad took me back after I ensured there would be little left of the estate or any physical assets inside.”

“So you get nothing from them either?”

“Technically, I was still in the will. Probably their way of trying to boast and argue how much they did fucking care about me. And it would have helped them lie about how they’d hoped to see me join the family again despite planning on killing me. Because of that, I will inherit the plot of land that the burned down shit is on, but that I’ll obviously sell. The company is a bigger issue, but I should be able to step down from the board with only a little fuss and paperwork, and the shareholders shouldn’t argue. I never did anything in that place anyways.”

Victor chuckled at that. He pulled Roman into a deeper kiss, the first one in a while though Roman didn’t actually push. Part of Victor wanted him to, but at the same time, he still felt like he could easily fall asleep again. He was just so fucking tired.

He whispered, “Next Strange and then…”

“The past will finally be gone,” smiled Roman. “Nothing but the future left for us. I’ll find you Strange. Serve him on a fucking platter for you.”

“I want to know who’s looking for him. I want to join the search.”

“Rest first, but if he hasn’t been found by then, you may.”

Victor hummed in satisfaction.

“Are you hungry?”

Victor nodded.

“I’ll have something brought for you then. Any preference?”

“Not really.”

“Alright, let me just make a call.” Roman kissed him again. He slipped away and Victor stretched in bed. He could feel the healing wound on his neck stretch too. It made his stomach turn, but not as much as before. Soon that developing scar would have a point. It would have its body.

Roman got him breakfast and stayed with him all morning. After eating, they returned back to the bed. Victor lay against Roman’s chest, arms wrapped around him and holding him tight. While laughing at how possessively Roman refused to keep his hands off him, he commented on how much of the morning was going to waste. “Don’t you have work that needs to get done? Fucking lawyers you need to deal with or some crap?”

“Later,” growled Roman as he kissed the base of Victor’s neck. “I’m postponing.”

“Everything?” chuckled Victor.

“Well, there’s one thing I can’t. But that’s not until this afternoon and starting now, we still have three more hours together.”

The added time pleased Victor. He realized they’d never really done this. There was always a reason to keep moving, something that had to be done that day. But now they could be at least a little lazy. Victor didn’t have to do anything. He could just lay in Roman’s arms. “I hope I made you proud.”

“Immensely.”

“I wish I’d gotten there sooner.”

“You arrived just on time. Though it was a bit dramatic jumping off that balcony.”

“My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. No way in hell could I have shot straight. Had to improvise.”

Roman laughed, drawing another kiss from him.

“And you? You’ve explained what happened, but how did it feel getting to finally kill your parents?”

“Freeing.”

“Yes?”

“I can remember thinking about how I might get rid of my fucking father since I was a child. I didn’t think it was possible. But I just needed the right push. I just needed a gun in my hand,” Roman whispered against Victor’s ear. “I just needed to know I could pull the trigger. I needed the right guiding hand and I needed you. I had you. And my mother? Oh to finally destroy her fake fucking confidence. To stop her stupid fucking smiles. Even after watching me shoot my father, she still didn’t think I would do it. I truly shocked her, for the first fucking time in her life. And hearing her screams? It was fucking music.”

As Roman spoke, one hand moved lower. Victor jumped even at how slight it was. Had it been that long? Or did it just feel like it? Either way, Victor murmured, “I don’t think I have the energy for that now.”

“You don’t need it. This is simply for you.”

Victor shifted slightly. He pressed his back more firmly against Roman and turned his head to kiss the edge of Roman’s lips.

“Such a perfect mongrel,” whispered Roman.

“Your mongrel. Your fucking dog,” Victor replied as his breathing hitched and stuttered. “You need me.”

“I do.” The admittance was all Victor could have asked for. To be acknowledged. To know Roman understood. “When the deck is stacked against me, I know I can trust you to be in the shadows, ready to shoot the dealer.”

A soft groan left Victor’s lips. His body slightly arched into the touches. “Always.”

“Just for me.”

“Just for you,” agreed Victor.

It was so close to perfection. The past and all that shit was over for Roman. Now Victor was almost there too.

The rest of the day, he rested. He fell asleep early and only woke up again when Roman moved in at his side late that night. The next day he felt even stronger, though he decided to wait one more day before trying to find Strange himself. Now that it had been several days since the trauma, there was the fear that Strange might have already left Gotham. Of course, Victor didn’t know if leaving Gotham was even in Strange’s plans. Maybe he was stupid enough or stubborn enough to have no intention of leaving. But whether he left or not ultimately didn’t matter. If Victor had to, he would temporarily leave Gotham and track the fucker down. He would get his marks right. The only question was really when, not if.

Once two days had passed since the incident at the estate, Victor felt ready. He got up and started to get dressed. Roman reminded him, “I have people that can handle this, you know?”

“I know. I still want to be involved. I want to make sure the first thing Strange sees is my face before I knock the fucker out and drag him somewhere secluded.”

Roman chuckled at the imagery. “Alright. Vicki has been trying to track down that bartender while the others have been watching the city to make sure Strange hasn’t left yet.”

“I’ll follow Vicki.”

“She already talked to the bartender’s brother. He didn’t seem to know anything.”

“He probably said that, but I’m sure he gave something away that Vicki has been using to track down a location. It hasn’t even been a week yet. There’s still time.”

“True. I’ll text Vicki to come here this morning.”

“Thank you.” Victor went to get his knives. Thankfully, Vicki had picked up the ones he’d dropped at the estate after he’d passed out. She’d even cleaned them. He chose one of those and then two new ones that he slipped onto his person. It felt good being able to hold them, to stand and know himself. He could tell he still had at least a few more days ahead of him before he was back to peek condition. At least another week, if not a little longer, before the burst blood vessels in his one eye healed. But he was getting there. As long as no setbacks occurred again, he was in the green.

Walking down into the club, it somehow felt new, different. Nothing had really changed. He had visited Roman in his office just the day before. But something about walking through the place and knowing that Roman’s parents would never be able to fuck with Roman’s future again simply added a new shine to the walls and floor.

Victor walked by Barsad on his way out. He couldn’t help but grin. Even raving mad and looking like he would pass out at any second, the man had listened to him.

“You really are a loyal dog,” grinned Victor as he slowed to a stop. “Tell me. What kind of money would make you turn into a yellow-bellied traitor?”

“No amount would,” Barsad plainly said.

Ah, such a boring, old, military man. Yet useful too. They were lucky to have him even if he would never understand what made Victor and Roman tick. “That’s what I like to hear. Thanks for the help. I’ll see you later.”

Barsad made a small grunt in the back of his throat and Victor left the building.

Vicki was waiting right out front in her car. Victor got in with a large grin. “So, no mask today?”

“It’s mostly investigative work right now. And if we have to, we can kill anyone who becomes a risk.”

“I like the sound of that,” chuckled Victor. “Thanks for cleaning my knives by the way. Even a day of leaving them like that would have pained me.”

“Don’t want them to rust,” Vicki agreed. “Are you well enough to use them?”

Victor took out one and twirled it in his hand as way of an answer. “As for everything else,” murmured Victor, “nearly there.”

“I’m glad.”

The slight sound of genuine concern that came from her tone made him grin. “Oh, I’d almost forgotten. You actually care.”

“You really weren’t well Victor. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Victor laughed. He didn’t press for the moment though. Considering she seemed happy to stay and work for Roman, Victor was sure there would be plenty more times to mess with her. For now, it was time to work.

It felt good to be back on his feet. It wasn’t killing or torturing or seeing if he could pull someone’s stomach out through their throat. But it was enjoyable nonetheless. They primarily looked through one of Strange’s journals that Vicki had found when looking for him. She’d also gained a little intel from Jervis, even if the man hadn’t meant to give it, that she’d been using to cross reference with the journal. She’d found one other hidden lab, though that had been completely cleared out already.

Before lunch, they managed to find another small hiding place. It didn’t look like Strange, or anyone, had been to the location in a while though. After looking over notes and dusty instruments, Victor said, “I say we come back if we have to. But it definitely looks like this isn’t at the top of his list of places to clear out.”

“Agreed,” murmured Vicki. She flipped through another journal. Her eyes widened with interest and she quickly pocked it.

“That’s right. Roman said something about how you wrote an article about what happened. Even managed to connect Strange to the back-alley lab and everything.”

“Figured it would be the best way to keep Strange from doing anything too drastic. And managed to perform both my jobs in one go. Saved your life and gathered evidence.”

Victor laughed. “Saving my life is not your job. If anything, it makes us even. I saved yours first.”

“When the hell did you save mine?”

“When I convinced you to work for Roman.”

Vicki seemed surprised before an honest look passed over her and she shrugged. Oh yeah, she definitely was acknowledging that Victor was right. For the moment though, she just put away another item and said, “We should get going. Try to make more ground.”

Victor nodded in agreement.

They left the building and headed back to Vicki’s car. She had several blocks narrowed down for another possible lab, but still hadn’t figured out what the coded title of the lab could relate to. They drove across the city and started to circle the area. There wasn’t anything super obvious like the lab Victor had been held at, the lab codenamed Purple Rose and a purple, neon rose being in the window of that pawn shop.

However, Vicki was certain they were in the right area. She wanted to find the fucking place before they risked looking elsewhere.

They were so close after all. Behind any door, any window they passed, it could be the one. Maybe Strange was even in the area. Maybe he could even see them just from between the slivers of some blinds—

Victor jolted. His eyes quickly went to the back of the woman’s head. She was carrying bags in her hands. Food? Supplies? Traffic wasn’t moving incredibly fast, but they were about to pass her. Victor had to think quick. He looked back to Vicki who had immediately picked up on his change in posture.

“You’re driving,” Victor said.

“Glad you can tell,” she dryly replied. “Why does that matter?”

“Hmm…I-no. It’s fine. I should be fast enough.”

“For? Don’t spoon feed me here Victor.”

“It’s Alice.”

“Where? How the fuck can you tell?”

“I just know it’s her.” They were almost about to pass her. The moment she spotted Victor, she would run. They couldn’t risk losing her. She could cut their search for Strange down in half. “I’m just going to fucking do it. Park the car and find me or I’ll call you first.”

“Wait, are you fucking serious? You haven’t even fully recovered—Victor!”

Her cry fell on deaf ears as Victor jumped out of the moving car. He stumbled a little before finding his footing. Again, thankfully the car wasn’t going too fast. However, his stunt had caused people to cry out in shock and some to stop and turn. Alice glanced back—

Victor started to run. So did she.

Right away, he could tell that this was going to be more difficult than usual. Anyone he ran into knocked him off balance more than usual and his lungs were already burning a bit. He pushed past it though. His feet hit the ground. His eyes were only on her.

She’d dropped the bags. Bottles shattered and items had gone spilling out that Victor now jumped over to continue his chase. Alice was in a panic. She was fast, but her body wasted energy knocking anyone and everyone aside rather than finding the path of least resistance. It actually helped him out. Most had already been pushed aside or had stepped out of the way as Victor got closer and closer.

Alice seemed to acknowledge that though. A new idea came to her mind. She started to scream.

To be fair, they were in a crowded street. Someone could pluck up the courage to intervene. More likely a few of the people might call the police. One person did surprise Victor though. Instead of jumping into their waiting cab and getting the hell out of there, she yelled at Alice and gestured for her to try and take it. However, Victor tackled her at the last second. He pulled her up as she started screaming even louder.

The few people that were around him froze in fear and shock at what they’d just witnessed. Victor just grinned.

“Girlfriends. Am I right?”

“I’m not your fucking girlfriend! Someone just fucking help!” screamed Alice as he dragged her back through the crowd.

Still no one moved. The people were too confused, and even with Victor holding no weapon, the tenacity he’d used in grabbing her and his general look had everyone fearful. Still, there was a chance someone might try to help again, and Alice was still struggling. Victor quickly thought of a way to make her come willingly. There weren’t many things she cared about and despite having interacted with her as many times as he had, he didn’t exactly know her well. But she did have a brother. Considering what he was willing to do so that Strange would continue giving her treatment, their bond had to mean something, didn’t it?

Victor brought his lips close to her ear. He just had to whisper three little words to her.

“Jervis will scream.”

She froze instantly.

“Or you can come with me. It’s your choice,” whispered Victor.

“It really isn’t,” she immediately replied. However, he could feel her defeat. He let go of her. She didn’t run and only managed a weak smile to those that had gathered around them. “Sorry for the trouble everyone.”

At least one person put away their phone, the power of suggestion at work. If everything seemed ok, nobody wanted to get involved and ruin their day, even with how false Alice’s words had sounded. Someone still might have called the police, but hopefully this wouldn’t take long and Victor would soon be gone from the area. He started to walk through the crowd, at first leading the way.

Once they weren’t so close to everyone, Victor paused so that way his pace started to match Alice’s. He said, “You know where the lab is, I take it. You were bringing supplies there. Show me.”

She silently nodded and walked Victor down the street. She turned a corner and finally came to a building. Victor texted Vicki the address before going inside. He was warry of his surroundings. A knife was in his hand the moment they were off the street. However, the only person to suddenly come at him was Alice.

He was surprised at how quickly her pace stopped and she spun on him. Her whole body was trembling. Her eyes watered. “I didn’t know what he was going to do to you—”

“I don’t fucking care.”

“Even if I had, even with it being you, it was too much. I never would have gone along with it—”

“And I definitely don’t need your fucking pity!”

“But I can’t let you kill Strange, so you might as well just kill me.”

Victor took the necessary step that put them almost chest to chest. His eyes narrowed. “I seem to recall you said you would rather kill yourself than ever become one of my marks.”

“Yeah, well I’m giving you the opportunity now because no amount of torture will make me give away Strange’s location.”

“You say that now, but I think your opinion is going to change pretty fucking quick,” growled Victor.

“It won’t,” she countered. Honestly, it was impressive. Even with death staring her in the face, she wasn’t backing down. “If you kill Strange, I’m as good as dead anyways. You might as well just kill me now and save my brother the torment of watching me waste away. Or, we can make a deal.”

“I’m not keeping that fucker alive,” growled Victor. His phone buzzed and he quickly checked it. He texted Vicki to wait outside. His eyes quickly met Alice again and narrowed. He put his phone away and used the knife in his hand to point at his neck. “This right here? He tried to kill me. He was going to. But he failed, and now I have a debt to settle with him. You can’t stop me. No one fucking will.” He held the knife out towards her now. “It’ll take a little longer without your help, but I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”

He grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her flush against his body. Tears were falling down her face as he very carefully dug his knife in right below her eye and dragged it down her cheek—

“Wait!”

Victor tutted. “I’m not keeping him alive Alice. And if you won’t cooperate, I’ll drag my knife down from your lips to your cunt.”

“I’m not saying don’t kill him! Just…I’ll tell you where he is if you agree to get some information from him first. Before his heart stops beating.”

Victor looked at her curiously. He smiled. “So you don’t know anything about the treatment he performs to keep you alive.”

She shook her head. “It’s why my brother and I have stuck with him as long as we have. Just…if you can promise you’ll get all the information you can out of him, I’ll tell you what I can. Otherwise, kill me now. It’ll be easier on Jervis in the long run.”

He thought about it for a second. He could just kill her. Her defiance to him constantly, how she had never put up with his bullshit, would make her scar a very special one. But Strange was more important. Even if it just sped up the process by a few minutes, he could live with torturing some information out of Strange.

“Deal.”

Alice looked at him carefully, her eyes moving back and forth in a rapid fashion. Then they widened. “You mean it.”

“Yep,” grinned Victor. “It’s a shame you won’t join him, but hey, this’ll incentivize me to torture him for as long as fucking possible. So, tell me where he is. Better yet, text me. Then I can contact you if I get the information.”

“Hold on. If—”

“This is Strange we’re talking about. I can’t guarantee he won’t keep his trap shut through it all.”

“Fair enough.” Alice let out a shuttering breath. She didn’t back down though. Instead, she pulled out her phone and quickly gave Victor all the information he would need. The location, how many men Strange had with him at a time. Where he planned to go next to gather his information on the off-chance Victor missed him.

“If this doesn’t pan out—”

“It will.”

“But if it doesn’t, I’ll make you wish you’d just let me kill you here and now rather than wait.”

“I know,” whispered Alice. “Believe me. I fucking do.”

“Good.” Victor planted a kiss on her cheek, right where he’d dug his blade into her skin. He pocketed hs knife. “I’ll see you soon Alice.”

Victor left the building and found Vicki waiting just outside. “Progress?” she asked.

He pulled up the information Alice had texted him and tossed it to Vicki as he followed her lead to wherever she’d parked the car.

“Hmm, you got all this information out of her quick.”

“We made a deal. I’m supposed to get some information out of Strange for her.”

“And will you?”

“Maybe. It does make me curious how far I’ll have to go to break him. If I happen to get the information Alice wants along the way, so be it.”

Vicki rolled her eyes at that. She threw the phone back to Victor. “I’ll drive us there right now.”

He nodded in agreement and called Roman. He heard him pick up right away and quickly said, “Vicki and I should be headed for Strange as we speak.”

“You’ve found him?”

“We have a probable location. Almost a hundred percent sure that it’ll pan out.”

“Then I’ll get a space set up for you.”

Victor couldn’t help but beam. “You’re too sweet.”

“I’ll even make sure your tools are set up.”

“Ah. Text me the address. We should need the space sometime this afternoon.”

“I’ll see you then. I’d say good luck, but you won’t need it.”

“Nope. I’d say Strange is the one who needs it, but I’ll make sure this is the unluckiest day for the rest of his life.”

Roman laughed. “I’ll make arrangements now.”

“See you soon,” Victor agreed. He put away his phone and looked over to Vicki. “Whatever happens, Strange is all mine.”

“Oh, I know. I’m not stupid enough to get in between you,” chuckled Vicki. They arrived at where she had parked. They both got in and followed the directions Alice had given Victor. Soon the marks would be correct. They would be perfect.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the last chapter! A massive thank you again as I never intended this story to get as long as it did. I'm really thankful to everyone for reading it though and certainly keeping my muse and inspiration for this high. Thank you for leaving any comments and kudos and thank you again for those that stuck with this from the beginning to those who joined in along the way. I hope you enjoy this final chapter <3

Victor and Vicki worked quickly.

They were at the location in under an hour.

They spent about ten minutes looking over the place, making sure it didn’t look like Alice had set them up or had warned Strange they were coming. Victor didn’t think she would do that. It would have been really fucking stupid of her and if it did happen, Victor would rip her in two. But he was pretty sure such a betrayal wouldn’t happen, and soon he was proven right.

Once satisfied with their quick reconnaissance of the area, Vicki took the lead. They got into the building. They went quietly, quickly. Then she took out her gun. The hired gunmen fell left and right as Victor went straight for Strange.

No joking. No toying. No messing around.

That could all come later. For the moment, Victor was like a well-oiled machine. He moved swiftly, dodged what few attacks came his way, grabbed a fire extinguisher, and slammed it against Strange’s head. It was tempting to keep going. Obviously, he wouldn’t get any of the information that Alice wanted if he did that, but Victor didn’t really care. However, he did care about giving Strange the ending he deserved. Considering he was already knocked out, beating him to death just wouldn’t do. The wound on his neck itched to be whole, but Victor managed to stave off the need. Just a little longer and then it would be a scar with a body and a story he would never forget.

With Strange unconscious, Victor turned around and threw a knife into the neck of the last hired gun.

He made a quick cut underneath one of his eyes as he went to grab the other knife. He called Roman.

“Everything is prepared,” Roman immediately said.

“Good, we’ve got Strange right here.”

Vicki casually stepped over a body as she pocketed some evidence.

“I’ll text you the address and see you soon then.”

The call ended and seconds later, Victor was pulling up the route to the address Roman had sent him. He grabbed Strange and bound his wrists and ankles. Then he and Vicki dragged Strange to the car and threw him into the trunk. They left the scene and Victor started to tell her where to turn. The ride took about twenty minutes.

Once they got there, Victor could hear several noises coming from the trunk. He grinned. “Guess he’s awake.”

They both got out. When Vicki popped her trunk, Strange looked up at them and laughed, low and dark. “You are a tenacious one.”

“God damn right,” replied Victor. He grabbed Strange by the arm and yanked him up. He cut the ties around Strange’s ankles so that way he could stand on his own once Victor fully pulled him out of the trunk. It brought Victor an extreme sense of pleasure seeing the drying blood on the side of Strange’s head. His glasses had broken and fallen off his face back at his lab. His eyes looked beady without them.

Near them was another car. One of the men from the club was sitting there with the engine off. Clearly that was who Roman had gotten to drive him and from the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, he’d probably done most of the prep work.

“Hey, you good from here?” asked Vicki.

“What? Don’t want to watch the show?”

“Still got deadlines. Besides, this is personal. I don’t want to interrupt that. I’ll see you and Roman later.”

“Later Vicki,” grinned Victor as his grip tightened on Strange and he shoved him towards the building.

Despite the dilapidated setting, the power was still working. The florescent bulbs washing out the space around them and made the rusted meal of the building glisten. Roman was lounging in a chair, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at his ankles. He smoothly got up upon seeing Victor arriving.

“It’s a shutdown slaughterhouse,” Roman said in reference to their current location. “I figured some of the left behind equipment could prove useful as well.”

Victor’s smile widened as he looked at the sharp objects hanging from the ceiling. “Oh yeah. I definitely know what I can do with those.”

“Hmm, your ability to ignore the cut on your neck is remarkable. Or did you kill someone else and the marks have since been corrected?” hummed Strange.

“You’re seriously making comments right now? You realize I’m going to kill you, right?” grumbled Victor.

“Yes, but is it for revenge or to correct your marks?”

Victor kicked Strange to the ground. When he tried to stand up, Victor grabbed the collar of his coat and dragged him the rest of the way. “You don’t have any of your little notebooks around. Even if you did, they wouldn’t accomplish anything. No one’s going to care about your fucking notes. No one is even going to care that you’re about to be gone for good.”

He let go of Strange so that way he could reach up and grab one of the hanging meat hooks. He pulled the chain down and then took Strange’s shoulder. He spun the older man around and kept him in place as he shoved the hook in, deep and up. It tore into the muscle and possibly even bone on the left side of Strange’s back. He let out a pained gasp. Victor kneeled down in front of him. All the while, Roman had returned to where he’d been sitting before, watching with rapt interest.

Victor directed Strange’s gaze up and back to him. Victor cocked his head to the side and asked, “How do you keep Alice alive?”

Strange was surprised by that. So was Roman from his, “Why are you asking about that little bartender that fucked you over?”

To be fair, Alice hadn’t fucked him over. At least according to her, but Victor just said, “It was part of a deal we made. She helped me find Strange fucking faster. I told her I would ask.”

Strange managed to laugh despite the thick piece of metal piercing his back. “I won’t tell you anything.”

“Fine, you don’t have to.” Again, Victor could see how he was shocking Strange and it made him smile. “Honestly, if I don’t get shit from you, I can live with that. Alice obviously can’t—” He laughed at his own joke. “—but hey, I am grateful for her making this all happen faster. Besides, it allows me to test a pretty interesting theory.”

Victor moved back behind Strange, pulled down another chain, and forced the hook under the other shoulder blade. Hearing Strange’s pained gasp that he couldn’t control brought an immeasurable amount of warmth to Victor’s stomach. But it wasn’t enough. There was so much more he had in store for Strange.

As Victor made sure the chain was secure, Strange asked, “And what theory is that, exactly?”

“It’s the one you taught me actually. That everyone has a breaking point.” Victor yanked a little on the chain and moved around to look Strange in the face. “You see, I really don’t care if I can get the information out of you or not for Alice. However, it does give me a unique challenge. You see, you made me afraid. Actually afraid, and I don’t even fear death. You found my breaking point and now? I’m going to find yours.”

Victor got up. He looked at the nearby controls before pressing a button. The old gears turned and the chains were raised, forcing Strange onto his feet and then the very tips of his toes before Victor made it stop. The pained breathing came a little harder.

“So tell me, how do you keep Alice alive?”

Strange chuckled again. “I do not break that easily Victor.”

That just made Victor grin though. “Good. I would hate for this to end too quickly after all the work that went into setting everything up.”

He walked towards a table full of instruments that Roman had brought in for him. He grabbed some rope and went to bind Strange’s hands up around the support that the chains were hanging from. That way support was split between his wrists and arms and the hooks in his back. Victor didn’t want him falling down after all.

Out of curiosity, Victor decided to ask one last time before he decided to really get started. “Tell me. What chemicals and what supplies do you use to keep Alice alive?”

“If I am to die Victor,” Strange evenly said, “then I will at least take Alice with me. It’s the least she deserves for her betrayal.”

Victor shrugged. “I really don’t care,” he reminded him. “But hey, who knows. Maybe you’ll change your tune.”

Victor went and grabbed one of his smaller knives. He pushed Strange’s sleeve up and then just barely cut into the skin like he was peeling a fruit.

“The silent treatment now, huh?” murmured Victor when Strange didn’t immediately say anything. He carefully dragged his knife under again and a sliver of muscle pulled away, blood dripping to the floor. “That’s fine. I do like variety you know. It would get boring if you screamed the entire time.”

Every cut, every movement, Victor took his time with. He was determined to enjoy himself, and enjoy it he did. Occasionally, Roman voiced a comment or suddenly had an idea come to him. Victor was only too happy to indulge in the ideas, making the piece of shit that was Strange into a god damn work of art. At regular intervals, Victor asked about Alice. So far, he wasn’t getting anything, but Victor was fine with that. Even if Strange did start talking, there was no guarantee Victor would write everything down and actually give it to Alice. Even if she had helped, he sure as shit wouldn’t break the flow of his work to help her out.

After a while, Roman let out a long yawn and stood up. “I’m hungry. Would you like me to get you anything?”

Victor dropped another slab of flesh onto the ground. “Oh, something greasy.”

Roman made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on. You know the place. The one I’ve taken you to.”

“Against my will,” grumbled Roman.

“So dramatic-hold on.” Victor paused as he noted that Strange had seemingly changed tactics. Victor looked around. He didn’t find anything so he kicked off one shoe, pulled off his sock, and shoved it in Strange’s mouth before the man could successfully bite off his own tongue.

Roman made a face. “Ew.”

“Well I’m not going to wear it again,” Victor said with a roll of his eyes. Strange tried to spit it out, but Victor quickly placed his hand over the man’s mouth and held it there. He tried to reach for some duct tape, but it was just out of reach. He glanced back to Roman and flashed him a smile. “Be a dear?”

“Am I still required to get you that dribble you call food?”

“Hey, you haven’t thrown up once from it.”

Roman rolled his eyes but waltzed over all the same. He plucked up the duct tape and held it out with a delicate twist of his wrist.

“Thank you.” Victor took it and quickly wrapped the duct tape around Strange’s face, keeping the gag in place. Before continuing his conversation with him, he turned back to Roman and batted his eyes. “Please?”

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet you still keep me around.”

“Fine! I’ll get you your trash,” sighed Roman as he quickly turned on his heels and started to leave.

“Thank you!” Victor repeated as he picked up a knife and forced Strange’s chin up. “Now, as for you, I am still trying to get that information out of you. What do you use for Alice?” He waited. When there was no response, he laughed. “I realize you’re gagged, but a grunt to show you’re willing to cooperate would be nice.” He waited a little longer. “Nothing? Well I guess we’re just going to have to push a bit harder, aren’t me?”

Victor dropped the knife and walked back to the tools laid out before him. So many were his own. Some Roman must have brought on his own though. Victor picked up a circular sawblade. He turned the machine on and watched as the blade smoothly spun in a loud, warring motion. He turned it off and set it back down.

“Oh, I like the sound of that. Don’t you?” Victor asked with a manic grin towards Strange. “But first, we can’t have you bleeding out. Can we?”

He went ahead and kicked off his own shoe so that walking around wasn’t off set. He threw his other sock in with the flesh that was on the ground. He grabbed some rubber and pulled it tightly around one of Strange’s forearms. Victor would have liked to take a leg, but with the position Strange was hanging in, there would be more blood loss due to gravity even while cutting off the circulation. Victor stuck with the arm. His hands pulled the rubber tight until the skin on either side was bulging up. The sawblade was picked up again and Victor very slowly started to go into the skin and muscle beneath.

Strange had mostly been silent. He probably didn’t want to give Victor any satisfaction. However, this he couldn’t control. The screaming against the gag started immediately as Victor truly dug deep into him for the first time. Victor went slow to. He wanted to make sure Strange felt every little tug, every rip. The sawblade hit bone. The noise changed from wet to hard and a little screeching. Victor pushed a little harder, the bone crunching and splintering around the area until—

He jerked forward a little as the blade went through. The notched edges finally cut through the other side of Strange’s skin and that part of his arm swung lose, the rope still around that wrist. Victor grabbed a lighter and then very slowly started to cauterize the stump. He gave Strange just enough pain that he stayed awake and didn’t pass out.

The man continued to scream against the gag. The flame licked over the torn muscles as Victor went in a slow back and forth motion. It took him a while as he enjoyed the motions before he felt satisfied with his work. He put the lighter away and started taking the rope off the wrist. He pulled the cut off part free.

A noise drew his attention to the front. Roman was already walking back. Victor waved with the severed arm.

Roman rolled his eyes, but the act still managed to bring a laugh out of him. He walked by him, kissing Victor briefly before he dropped the bag of food near him.

“There. Grease and all.”

Victor didn’t let it go unnoticed that Roman had gotten something for himself too. He grinned. “See, it’s not all bad.”

“Just because I haven’t died yet from it doesn’t mean it’s not bad,” retorted Roman. Still, he sat down and pulled his own food out as Victor set the arm down.

Victor shoved a few fries down his throat before an idea came to him. He quickly grabbed the severed part of the arm again and cut a small chunk off it.

“Are you hungry Strange?” Victor forced the man’s face to look his way. “I think you are.” He pulled off part of the duct tape and the gag with it. Strange immediately tried to keep his mouth closed, but Victor forced the piece of his own flesh between his lips. He then forced the gag back into place as Strange choked on himself. However, after a moment, his body automatically swallowed and Victor grinned. “See? I knew you were hungry.”

Roman laughed at that and Victor’s grin was still firmly in place.

He then took a moment to really focus on eating. Once the wrappers were crumpled up in the bag, Victor slapped Strange’s cheek.

“Can’t have you falling asleep on us, can we?” Strange’s eyes partially opened. “There we are! So tell me. How have you been treating Alice?”

Victor was surprised to hear a grunt escape Strange’s lips. As Victor pulled the gag back off, he half expected Strange to say some snide comment. Maybe he would just stay silent. But clearly the pain and blood loss was getting to him. The moment his mouth was clear, he started talking. So Strange really did have his own breaking point. The logic that he should keep his mouth shut and try to make sure Alice died had left him. His attempts at not make this even more enjoyable for Victor had left him. He was compliant in the sliver of hope it might end this quicker.

It felt good, but Victor wasn’t quite done.

He didn’t write anything down in regards to Alice, but he did memorize what Strange was saying. There was still a chance the guy was lying and the information would do Alice no good. However, considering Strange hadn’t wanted Alice to die, that made Victor want to keep her alive. At least just right now if only to spite the man from beyond the grave.

“I knew I could find it,” Victor whispered as Strange’s speech finally slowed. Now what to do? Victor could continue his slow destruction of Strange’s body, but he was so close. The wound on the side of his neck flared up. He needed the kill. He was so close to fixing his marks.

Alright. This was almost over with then. But Victor wouldn’t just slit Strange’s throat. Instead, Victor said, “Do you think you’ll die from blood loss first, or do you think I can make you eat all your skin before that happens? Hmm? Let’s see.”

Victor picked up a piece from the floor, forcing it down Strange’s throat. He cut off a section of skin. A small cube from the arm. Again and again he forced the pieces down Strange’s throat, even when the man threw up more than once. Victor was quick and efficient, getting through most of Strange’s body before he saw that the man was starting to shake against his restraints. His body was finally shutting down. It seemed it was finally over.

Victor took the last few seconds for himself. He grabbed a blade and pushed it into Strange’s neck and out. The body stilled and everything slumped over as the blood began to stream down his front.

Oh, now that was fucking beautiful.

The marks were perfect. They were all in place. Victor could count them again and knew exactly what body went with each. One hand came up and stroked the spot. It felt right. So fucking right. And then Roman was up and stroking that same mark.

“Feel better?” whispered Roman.

“Much.”

He felt Roman kiss him on the neck. Victor tried to turn and press his lips to Roman, but Roman quickly leaned back.

“After what you just ate?”

“You ate it too.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Victor laughed at the pouting tone and quickly stole a kiss anyways. “Cleaning this up will take a bit. If you have work to do, you could go do that and pick me up afterwards.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you soon then,” said Roman. His eyes moved back to Strange’s torn apart body for a moment. He smiled. “I can’t wait for you to keep putting these talents of yours to good use.”

“Neither can I,” replied Victor. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”

Roman nodded, dodging one last attempt at a kiss before leaving. Victor turned back to Strange’s still body. He softly laughed.

“Do you remember all the times I had to clean up your fucking experiments?” Victor asked the dead man. “Who would have thought it would come to this.” He laughed again. “Gotta admit, despite everything, I’m glad you did what you did. Otherwise we may have never crossed paths again. Instead, I finally got to take those smug fucking smiles off your face and now it’s your body I’m disposing of. How’s that for irony?”

Victor got ready to take Strange completely apart. However, he paused to text Alice his location with a few simple words. He then focused back on dismembering Strange. He cleaned some of his tools as he went, especially the ones that weren’t needed. After a while, he heard the sound of someone slowly entering and then a scream that was quickly cut off. Victor grinned as he spun around.

“Always lovely to see you Alice.”

Her eyes rapidly went between Victor and the pieces. “That’s…”

“Yep. All that’s left of him.”

She closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath.

“Ah, don’t’ tell me you’re shedding a tear for that fucker.”

“I’m not! Just…did you get the information or not?” she whispered.

“If I said no?”

She grimaced. “Please Victor. I just…tell me whether or not you have it so I can hurry up and never see you again.”

Victor chuckled. It was tempting to mess with her a little more, but he was looking forward to properly celebrating with Roman. He decided not to put it off and straight up told her. Her eyes went wide like she hadn’t expected Victor to remember anything.

She took her phone out with shaking hands. “C-Can you repeat that?”

Victor rolled his eyes. “Really?”

“Yes!”

“Fine, fine.” Victor turned back to dealing with the body but repeated everything he had just said regarding Alice’s treatment.

This time she typed it all down on her phone. When she looked back up, she whispered, “Why did you actually keep our deal?”

“Why do you think?”

“Not because you wanted to help me.”

“That’s definitely true,” chuckled Victor. “No, Strange just seemed determined to let you die for your betrayal. That alone made me want to keep you alive if only to spite him. Just for right now though. Who knows, maybe I’ll kill you one day.”

“You’re never going to see me after this,” she whispered. “You can count on that.”

“Maybe.” He glanced over his shoulder and flashed her a wide smile. “Bye Alice.”

She didn’t say anything as she left, possibly for the last time. Considering she was smarter than most, Victor wouldn’t be surprise if she already had plans to leave Gotham with her brother. It would be a shame to not have the chance to fuck with her anymore. Still, he had plenty of fun to look forward to now.

He had a home. Not just an apartment, somewhere to lay his head, but a home.

There was a purpose to him now. He’d once thought the joy of the kill was enough, but to do something with Roman watching? By Roman’s command? It was ecstasy.

And then he had Roman. Another human being. Someone who understood him in ways that no one else would be able to do.

He had everything he could ask for, things he didn’t even know he had needed until they’d fallen into his lap.

Victor finished cleaning up his mess and packed everything up that wasn’t getting thrown away or burned. He finally texted Roman to come pick him up. While he waited, he also responded to one of Vicki’s texts, asking if it was finally done.

He even had her. Not a necessity, but a fun little protégé that would certainly continue her usefulness for himself and Roman. With her help and the loyally employed, they would help Roman continue his rise. Anyone that got in their way? Anyone that betrayed them? Victor would rip them apart himself.

Roman soon texted that he’d arrived. Victor took the packed up equipment and went outside, putting it into the car’s trunk. Roman was in the back so Victor got in with him. He drew a long kiss from him before Roman pushed him away.

“You are brushing your teeth before anything happens.”

Victor just smirked, grabbing Roman between his thighs and kissing him again anyways. “Do you think you can wait that long?”

“You make a compelling argument.”

Victor laughed, drawing another long kiss from Roman’s lips before Roman snapped his fingers and demanded to the driver, “Take us home.”

“Yes sir,” the man replied, eyes remaining forward as he drove from the alley and back onto the streets.

Victor pulled Roman towards him and whispered, “Now nothing can stop us.”

“Gotham should be terrified.”

Oh the city certainly would be. Victor smiled against Roman’s lips as he drew him into another deep kiss. He couldn’t wait for where life would take them next.


End file.
